Hidden Paths on a CloudCast Night
by roku kyu
Summary: An apocalyptic threat to two worlds reunites old friends and enemies...and lovers parted for ten years. Ch. 17. "Keep your friends close...and your enemies closer."
1. Lightning on the horizon

**Hidden Paths on a Cloud-Cast Night** by roku kyu

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Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story, as well as all original characters, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

In the "Universe of the Four Gods" timeline, this story begins eight years after the events depicted in OVA 2. In Miaka's timeline, approximately five years have passed since the events of OVA 2. Therefore, this fiction contains spoilers for the entire television series, as well as OVAs 1 and 2. This fiction does not take into account the events depicted in Eikouden (OVA 3) and so may be considered "alternate universe," although it accepts everything preceding Eikouden as canon.

This story is also a sequel to the fanfictions "White Stones in the Moonlight" and "Bridge Over the Abyss." At this point, it is not necessary to be familiar with those two works, since direct references to events depicted in those stories will not occur for several chapters, although there will be several oblique references occurring sooner.

This story is rated "M" for violence, adult situations, and coarse language. This is a true "M" rating, designating this story as unsuitable for younger or more sensitive readers. Please respect the rating restriction, especially if you think that you may find the above-mentioned material offensive.

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Chapter 1. Lightning on the horizon.

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She felt it long before she saw it.

She knew it in the prickling of the hairs at the back of her neck, in the hammering of her heart and the choking feeling of panic that suddenly overwhelmed her. Her little hand spasmed in her mother's grip, causing the weary woman to frown in concern.

"Doulin-chan?" she queried, looking down into the pale, delicate features marked with dark circles around large blue-grey eyes. "Are you all right?"

The woman shifted her basket higher on her arm, placing her other hand on the ache in the small of her back, an ache caused by the added burden of her swollen belly.

Doulin gazed up helplessly into her mother's worried face, trying to find the words in her six-year-old vocabulary to explain this nightmare feeling of dread.

At that moment, she heard it. A grating, metallic screech at the upper range of audibility, like the sound of a sword sliding across a shield, the piercing, atonal notes sending shivers down her spine. She wheeled in the direction of the sound, looking fearfully down the long rows of merchants' stalls, her hand slipping out of her mother's grasp. Blocking her view was an endless stream of people moving calmly through the market, haggling with stallkeepers, acting as if it were only another normal shopping day.

"What's wrong, Doulin?" her mother asked again… and then the scream rang out.

A man's voice, raw with agony and terror, skidding up into the highest registers before being cut off abruptly. Heads snapped up, the crowd turning and moving curiously towards the source of the scream.

"No!" gasped Doulin, watching as the people moved mindlessly towards the danger. Suddenly a figure burst through their midst, that of a young woman, eyes wide in shock, stumbling in eerie silence away from whatever had taken off her arm. The screams began in earnest then, the crowd turning as a single entity, stampeding towards Doulin and her mother. The young girl looked up to see a strange swirling darkness rise above the market stalls, sending out roiling, questing tendrils… and she knew.

She _knew._

She turned to gaze one last time at her mother, her eyes filling with tears as she was filled with the terrible knowledge of the child who was about to die – the knowledge that there was nothing that her mother, father, or anyone else she loved could do to save her. Death was here, and it was _her_ that It sought, tearing apart any innocent bystanders that happened to get in Its way. A strange clarity filled her in these last moments, and she pushed her mother into a doorway, the woman stumbling back under the unexpected force.

"Gomen ne, Kaa-chan – I love you!" she cried, then turned and ran, covering her ears to shut out her mother's screams for her to come back.

The strange clarity stayed with Doulin as she ran, giving her the strength to keep going, her little legs pumping furiously as she flashed past the market stalls. She felt her hair slip out of its confining loops, the brilliant white tresses streaming out after her like a flag.

_ Good,_ she thought with that adult inner vision. _Keep It after me; keep It away from Kaa-chan._ She might be doomed, but at least her mother and unborn sibling would be safe.

The screams of the dying followed her, the horrible wet crunch of breaking bones and tearing flesh reaching her ears.

"Run!" she screamed at the people in her path. "Get away! Hide!"

The crowd parted before her, somehow realizing that it was her, this little girl, that It was truly after. Panic seized them, and they ran from her, no one moving forward to help her. Doulin chanced a glance back over her shoulder and nearly stumbled in terror. It was close behind her, maybe only fifty paces back, the blackness that swirled around it parting briefly to reveal shining black scales, towering jointed legs, a malevolent, triangular head reaching out with needle-like teeth dripping with gore. Was it a spider? A snake? A dragon? She couldn't tell, her vision blurring from exhaustion as she drew in great gasping breaths of air, trying to fuel her desperate flight. All she knew was that it embodied every nightmare image that had ever frightened her in her young life.

At the same time, she felt an odd sensation of release. This was it then: the thing that had haunted her dreams for the past few weeks, making her wake with her throat raw from screaming, her parents hovering anxiously at her bedside. This was the thing that had made her wonder, at the tender age of six, if she were losing her mind.

She ducked beneath an overhanging canopy, skittering away from the crash as the thing tore at the colorful material. The tears continued to run down her face, but she nearly laughed aloud with her new adult sense of irony. No, she wasn't going mad; she was perfectly rational, as the monstrosity behind her could testify. Her death would be the ultimate proof of her sanity.

The crowd had dropped back, leaving her alone in her last desperate dash. She ran in a dreamlike landscape of sudden eerie quiet, the only sounds the rapid scuffs of her feet sliding in the loose gravel, her quick gasping sobs for breath, the metallic hiss of the thing pursuing her. It was gaining on her; she could smell the creature's fetid breath as it came up behind her. The child in her wanted to crumple into a ball and shut her eyes, but the adult part of her forced her around the next corner, hoping against hope for some miraculous escape – only to encounter a solid stone wall.

The wall that bordered the edge of town and marked the edge of the marketplace now marked the end of her life. Doulin turned to face the creature at her back, filled with a grim sense of finality. She lifted her chin defiantly, watching as it stalked closer to her, slower now that it knew it had her trapped.

_Fine, _thought the adult part of her. _I hope you choke on me, you bastard!_

Suddenly, a bright light shone out from her chest, illuminating her in a brilliant white glow. The creature pulled back, its beady kaleidoscopic eyes narrowing at the intensity of the beam – and it hissed in satisfaction, spreading black leathery wings to block all exits from the dead end. Doulin realized that this was what the creature sought: this thing, this sign burning on her chest.

The malignant head moved towards her, the glistening fangs extending outward from its gaping mouth. Its head and jaws turned delicately, in small increments, the viscous saliva dripping, dripping as it approached the perfect angle for…

Doulin couldn't help it; she closed her eyes and turned her face away, filling her thoughts with the people she loved. Here it was then: the end of this all-too-brief life. Behind the pounding in her ears, she almost thought that she heard a voice cry out, _"Fusege!"_

_Too late,_ was her last sad thought as she felt its rank carrion breath on her cheek. _Too late for me…_ and then…

Nothing.

She opened her eyes to see the dripping jaws still bared in her face, but the creature remained motionless, frozen in place. She suddenly let out her breath in a harsh gasp, not realizing that she had been holding it all this time. Her knees grew weak, and she slid down the wall.

A strange chant filled the air around her, while a harsh male voice shouted "Stay down!"

Suddenly the air resounded with a battle cry of "Rekkaaa Shin'EEEENN!"

A gout of flame exploded from behind the creature, brilliant flares of red, orange, gold, blue engulfing it, consuming it. The nightmare beast jerked and squealed in agony but remained unable to twist out of whatever invisible bonds held it fast.

Doulin closed her eyes against the intense heat, curling into a ball and choking on the foul stench that emanated from the burning monstrosity. The creature's metallic screeches sounded in her head again and again until she thought that she would go deaf or mad. Just when she thought she could bear it no longer, the thing finally fell silent, yet the flames continued to pour onto its twisted form, miraculously stopping just short of burning her.

"Enough!" rang out the other voice, and the flames stopped instantly.

Doulin heard the crunch of boots on loose shale as they approached her. She lifted her head from her knees to glimpse two pairs of long legs towering above her as their owners regarded the now still and silent form. Legs clad in midnight blue suede boots with gold ankle cords walked up to the charred mass and kicked the blackened jaws hard. The skull of the beast crumbled, revealing miniature melted coils of wire melded to tiny gleaming metal plates.

"What the fuck is this shit?" harsh masculine tones demanded, the country accent thick with annoyance.

"Tasuki…" reproved a gentle voice. "There are children present, no da."

"Well, pardon the fuck outta me, 'Chiri!" retorted the first man. "Like she's gonna be traumatized by a few curse words after being chased all over Hell's half-acre by this fuckin' escapee from a demon's nightmare!"

"True," conceded the second man, walking over to Doulin and squatting down beside her. "Are you all right?" he asked gently, reaching out a hand to her.

Doulin looked up into the creased smiling eyes, at the silvery-blue hair rising heavenward like the crest of a phoenix, a shakujou resting against his cloaked shoulder. Behind him, a tall figure clad in dark blue, his long flame-red hair caught in a simple ponytail, clutched a huge diamond-bright fan and scowled at the charred beast.

That was when the laughter bubbled out of her, shaking her tiny form. Because it was all right now; everything was going to be all right.

They were here, the famous Suzaku no Seishi, somehow here in her home country of Sairou, and for the first time in weeks, she felt safe. And that strange adult part of her _knew_ them, not only as the legendary figures of fireside tales, but also as fellow warriors beside whom she had fought in some distant past. She laughed in relief and joy, reunited at last with those she had cared for so long ago.

The monk looked intently at her, somehow realizing her thoughts, and he reached up, removing his mystical mask. She gazed at the scar that slashed across his closed left eye and crossed onto the bridge of his finely shaped nose, somehow emphasizing the mature beauty of his unmarred features – and she laughed in delight, laughed until the tears ran down her face. She ran to the warrior-monk, and he scooped her into his arms, carrying her away from the thing that had nearly taken her. She clutched onto his kesa, glancing back to see his hot-tempered companion pick up the metallic remnants, then give one final kick to the charred carcass before striding up to join them.

"Tasuki-kun!" she gasped, making the red-haired man stare at her, surprised at being addressed as if he were a teenaged boy. "Fang-boy!" and she started laughing again at the perplexed, peeved look on his handsome face, amber eyes flashing behind long trailing bangs.

"What the fuck?" he addressed the monk instead of her.

"She's back." The gentle tones reverberated with satisfaction, and a warm mahogany eye smiled down at her. "Welcome back, Subaru, Byakko no Shichiseishi."

****

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Glossary of Japanese terms

'Kaa-chan – Mama

Fusege – Stop! Or Block!

Shakujou – monk's staff

Kesa – monk's cloak

Seishi – warrior

-kun – suffix denoting a young man, used familiarly or affectionately

Shichiseishi – Celestial Warrior; literally, one of the Seven Warriors

****

**Author's Notes** (1-7-03) Well, here it is at last, after many delays and excuses, the sequel that you have waited so patiently for. I knoooooww that this is an unusually short chapter for me, but certain people have let me know that they _prefer_ shorter chapters (coughAikido-chancough), so I thought I would give a try to slipping in a few less-than-ten-K chapters, at least at the beginning. (smirk) But you know me – sometime in the future, I'm sure that I will revert and inflict a 12,000 word chapter on you all! I'm incorrigible, I'm afraid!

The reason for the brevity of this chapter is that dramatically, I thought it was a good place to stop. If I continued, it probably would blow up to a ten-K chapter. You see, I write chapters like TV episodes – in my mind, they need to have a beginning, dramatic conflict, and resolution of some type – that's how they get to be so big, once I'm on a roll.

Aikido-chan: But you don't _have_ to write that way.

Roku: (whining) Yes, I _doooooooo_!

A-ny-wayyyy, to make up for the skimpiness of this chapter, I promise to post another chapter ASAP. Then it's back to "Bridge" and "CS" - damn, I've _got_ to get moving on "Bridge" before this fic exposes the whole ending of that story!

I would also like to thank Kaze-chan for her beta-reading of this chapter – aaaannnnnddd for the future use of her Byakko no shichiseishi characterizations. Yes, you heard it right! Byakko no shichiseishi… Genbu no shichiseishi… even some of the Seiryuu bunch! But this is going to be a short, brief little fic, I promise…

Suckers! Bwahahahahahaha!

(the groan of heavy machinery starting up, the rattling clank of a chain drive) Fasten your safety harnesses and hold on, minna – the roller coaster is leaving the station – and it's gonna be a looooonnng, wild ride!

Ja ne!

Roku

P.S. Happy Birthday to my baby – "White Stones" is one year old today!


	2. Distant thunder

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story, as well as all original characters, do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Warning: Major spoilers for OVA 2, and yes, some oblique references (and spoilers) for "White Stones in the Moonlight."

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**Chapter 2. Distant thunder**

The eye of the sorcerer tracked the lone figure as it wandered pensively through the quiet streets of the town, skirting open doorways from which spilled golden lamplight and the cheerful laughter of bar patrons. The figure seemed to shrink away from human companionship, keeping its secrets to itself. He let out a quiet sigh. It was bad, then; if his friend was avoiding his usual escape routes of casual sociability and strong drink, then his spirits must be even more depressed than expected.

He trailed his companion, watching as the man crossed the ornate bridge that arched over the small river running along the outskirts of town. The figure stopped at the top of the bridge, leaning his elbows on the carved rail and contemplating the moonlight rippling on the water. Suddenly, in a movement almost too fast to see, he scooped up several stones and fired them at the river. The water exploded upward from the rapid impact of the stones, the reflection of the moon shattered across the choppy waves. The figure leaned his elbows on the rail once again, watching the moon piece itself back together on the water's surface, unaware that he had just betrayed his rage and frustration to his friend.

The sorcerer sighed once again, then stepped out into view, allowing the rings of his shakujou to announce his presence with their musical chimes. His friend did not look up from his dark contemplation yet moved further along the rail to make room for him. The two men stood in silence under the moonlight, watching the water as it flowed under them. Finally, Chichiri removed his mask and faced his brother seishi.

"I don't think he meant it that way."

"Yes, he did; don't try to dress it up, 'Chiri," Tasukii snarled, then adopted a phony, sycophantic tone. "Oh, _arigatou,_ Suzaku no Seishi, for saving our miserable asses--but stay the fuck away from our daughters!"

"Tasuki…"

"No, forget it! I don't fuckin' blame him – if I were him, I'd probably say even worse things to someone with my reputation." He snorted in contempt, his voice edged with bitter sarcasm. "Nice ta know that my fame grows by the hour; here in Sairou, I'm not only a would-be rapist, but also a potential child-molester. 'Course when you consider that Miaka was only sixteen when I attacked her, I guess they're not that far off the mark, are they?"

"_Stop_ it!" Chichiri was enraged. "You know damn well that you've been unfairly accused! None of this would have happened to you if it wasn't for me – me and my miserable past. Tenkou used Hikou to strike at me through you and Miaka; you know damn well that you weren't responsible!"

"Oh, wasn't I?" Tasuki's voice was suddenly soft and dangerous. "Are you so certain, Chichiri? Don't you remember? I wanted her long before Hikou caught me in his spell."

"What you felt for Miaka was pure and beautiful; Hikou just took those feelings and twisted them, making you and Miaka and Tamahome re-enact what had happened between him and me. You could never have raised a hand against her on your own. How could you forget what you did to save her and Tamahome in the end?"

The younger seishi turned back towards the water again, once more fixing his gaze on the moon's rippling reflection. Chichiri held his breath. This was the most that the two had spoken of those dark events of eight years ago in a very long time – in many years, in fact. Had he gone too far in reminding Tasuki of his own suicide attempt? Gods, these were the moments in which he missed Mitsukake the most! He felt the overpowering need for the physician's sage advice in how to deal with all the mental wounds inflicted on his brother seishi in that battle against Tenkou. Yes, he himself had been psychically savaged by the encounter with the demon shade of his best friend, but in the end, he had found peace, both with Hikou and the memory of Kouran. Tasuki, however...all Tasuki had found was a burden he would carry for the rest of his days. That, and a new maturity that enabled him to assume masks with a skill that rivaled that of the magician.

Chichiri waited silently, sensing that Tasuki was letting the mask slip tonight. Finally, the voice came out of the darkness, devoid of all accents and colloquialisms, in language as pure as that spoken in any Imperial court.

"I haven't forgotten, Chichiri...but you see, it raises a question that I've asked myself over and over again through the years. Why was I willing to kill myself to save Tama, but not to save Miaka? If I had within me the power to break the spell…why didn't I do it when I first had her down on the bed?"

Chichiri's throat tightened at the bitterness and self-hatred in Tasuki's soft words. He didn't know the exact details of what had passed between Tasuki and Miaka in the inn that night – of course he didn't! Only Tasuki and Miaka knew for certain...and one had disappeared back to another world, while the other kept silent out of shame and bitterness. Whenever he thought about that night--and it was a rare occasion when he allowed his thoughts to turn to that traumatic, horrifying event--he prayed that the worst had not happened. True, Miaka had thrown her arms around Tasuki at the end, weeping over his attempt to end his life, but she had a heart so big that she would have done so no matter what had transpired. And Tasuki's depths of self-hatred made the monk fear that the worst _had_ happened. Did it really matter in the end? In the end, Miaka was gone, and Tasuki was left to pick up the shattered remains of his heart. Chichiri searched for the words that could ease his pain, but before he could speak, Tasuki's voice came out of the darkness once more.

"I wonder if the reason was this: deep in my heart, I _knew_ that I didn't want to kill Tama. But in that same deep, dark part of me…did I truly _want_ to rape Miaka?"

_"No!"_ The denial was explosive, startling Tasuki--and Chichiri himself.

Chichiri knew the reason for his rage – not the events of eight years ago, but the events of ten years past. A late summer's night; a mystical mountaintop; a young couple's love, beautiful, pure--crushed in its infancy for the sake of the Greater Good. Two years later, blooming again in only one of them, only to be twisted by evil into something dark and obscene. Chichiri choked, his own bitterness rising like bile in his throat. Dear _gods,_ would he be forced to carry the burden of this knowledge alone until the end of his days? And what of Tasuki? Was he, too, condemned to spend the rest of his days in misery? What crime had the two of them committed that warranted this harsh punishment, other than being the only two seishi who had fought successfully to remain alive in this world?

Chichiri gave himself a mental shake. Self-pity served the same purpose as always: no purpose at all. These were the lives they were given, and they had only one another to lean on. Well, Tasuki had Kouji and the bandits, too, but they were back at Mount Reikaku, so it was up to Chichiri to offer what little comfort he could.

"You wrong yourself, Tasuki. You wrong yourself more than any gossip could ever accomplish. You forget; I was there, right from the beginning, and I knew what you felt for her before you knew it yourself. You loved her. It's that simple and that profound. Tenkou and Hikou were able to blind you, making you believe that you were helping her instead of hurting her…but in the end, you realized the truth, and you saved them both."

Tasuki looked into his brother seishi's eye for a long moment, then turned back to the river once again. Chichiri covertly tested his ki: Tasuki was not convinced, yet he drew comfort from his fellow seishi's belief in him. The darkness was once again receding to the secret place at the back of his soul, where it would lie dormant until some thoughtless cruelty brought it to the forefront of his mind again.

Chichiri tried to reinforce his companion's defenses one more time.

"You see, I know you, Tasuki; I've known you for over ten years now, and I know that you're not capable of hurting anyonein that way, let alone _her._ As I said before, you could never have hurt her of your own volition; your feelings for her were too pure."

An unexpected gleam of amusement appeared in Tasuki's eyes. "Not all that pure, 'Chiri – I was nineteen, remember?"

Chichiri laughed, relieved to feel the darkness pull back from Tasuki's soul. "That's right; I believe I said back then that you had just reached puberty, right?"

"Asshole!" The bandit cuffed him affectionately. "Makin' me sound like a backward, ignorant hick!"

"So explain to me where I was wrong?"

"Hey!" protested Tasuki, then both men began laughing.

"Come on," said Chichiri, ruffling the younger seishi's hair affectionately, although he had to stretch up to do it; Tasuki seemed to have gained an extra inch or two in height over the past eight years. "Let's go back, and see what we can do to convince a worried…"

"Paranoid!" grumbled the bandit.

"Misinformed…"

"Ignorant!"

"Overprotective…"

"Asshole!"

"…of a father to release his daughter to our care. But Tasuki… "

"Hmmm?" Tasuki looked up scowling as Chichiri touched his arm.

"Better let me do the talking."

"Oh, shut up!"

****

They slipped quietly into the house, expecting the family to be asleep, but grateful to see a lamp had been kept lit for them.

Chichiri nodded towards a room off to one side of the entry area. "That one's for us," he murmured.

Tasuki started towards the door, when the lady of the house suddenly entered, trailed by a boy of about nine years of age. Tamure Yukari's features were drawn and white, her eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion and tears. She moved awkwardly towards Tasuki with the burden of her near-term baby, then suddenly began to crumple to her knees. Tasuki leaped forward to catch her, but she continued to collapse towards the floor, catching her weight on her hands and leaning forward, not stopping until her forehead touched the ground in a deep and humble bow. Her young son fell into a deep bow beside her.

"_Gomen nasai!_" she gasped, her voice choked with tears. "Please accept my apologies, Tasuki-sama, for my husband's words. Please forgive us…" her voice broke as the sobs racked her body.

Her young son bowed beside her, solemnly intoning "_Gomen. Gomen nasai,_ Suzaku no Seishi."

Horrified, Tasuki tried to raise her from the floor. "Please…Lady…please don't do this! You're gonna hurt the baby! There's nothin' to apologize for!"

But she just wept harder, resisting his efforts to pull her out of her obeisance. Tasuki turned a helpless glance towards Chichiri, and the monk moved forward.

He raised a hand over the distraught woman, closing his eyes in concentration. Soon she calmed, her sobs growing gentler. Chichiri stooped beside her, and she allowed him to raise her to her feet and guide her to a nearby chair. Her young son also rose to his feet, hovering anxiously beside his mother.

"Benjiro-kun, please make some tea for your mother. She is cold and tired, and you would help her a great deal by doing this." Chichiri's voice was kind, understanding the boy's need to do something useful in this situation.

"H-hai, Chichiri-sama!" The boy ran off to the kitchen to boil water and gather the tea leaves. The monk turned his attention to the young, tearful mother again.

"Tasuki is right, Tamure-san. You must not distress yourself; it's bad for the baby. There is no harm done here – Tasuki didn't take offense at all," he lied boldly.

Tasuki was still flushed with embarrassment but took the cue and flashed a grin at the young woman. Tears welled up in her eyes once again, and she began to sob softly.

"Aww, no, lady, aww, shit – I mean damn – I mean _darn it!_ I didn't mean ta scare ya; it's the fangs, right? I can't help it, I was born with the damn things! No, I don't mean I was _born_ with 'em; my mom woulda had nothin' ta do with feedin' me if that was the case! I mean that they just sorta grew later."

Tasuki's panicked stammers finally caused Yukari to giggle through her tears. Chichiri exchanged a wink with him over the young woman's head as she calmed and turned her eyes towards Tasuki once more. She was not much older than him, perhaps only a year or so, and although her eyes were the same blue-grey shade as her daughter's, her fair hair was not nearly so light.

"My apologies once again, Tasuki-sama. I didn't mean to lose control like that; it's just that I was so frightened that you would take offense and leave her here undefended." She caught her breath once again.

"Could we drop the –sama, please? I'm no lord; just a common bandit, that's all! And if people here have been talkin' about me, you must've heard that I got a pretty hot temper…but it blows over real quick, too. So no, we don't have any intention of leaving Doulin unprotected, so stop cryin', willya?"

The young woman gazed at the Tasuki's handsome, chiseled features, her eyes shining with unshed tears and…something else. "You're not a common bandit. You're not a common… anything." Tasuki flushed bright red at her compliment. Yukari also blushed and began stammering. "I mean, you're a Suzaku no Seishi; more than that, a Miko no Seishi! You have to understand: my husband wasn't there this afternoon. He didn't see the creature that pursued my daughter; he didn't see it try to kill her._ I_ saw it. I saw it as it brushed past me, and then…then I knew that my little girl was as good as dead!" She bit back her sobs once again. "But the two of you appeared out of nowhere, and I pointed to where that beast pursued her--and you brought her back _alive!_ My baby is alive and sleeping tonight in her bed because of you, and I will never forget that, _never!"_

Tasuki blushed harder, growing more miserable by the minute under her effulgent praise. Chichiri grinned briefly at his discomfiture but moved in to help him.

"We intend to _keep_ her alive, Tamure-san, but we need your help in convincing your husband that we must take her to a safer place. As I told you before, this was not the only creature seen in this country, and you are not the first to have your child attacked." His voice softened in sympathy. "I know that this is hard to believe, but the fact that your daughter is a Byakko no Shichiseishi will continue to make her a target for attacks...and unfortunately also draw the rest of your family into danger."

Yukari nodded, her features suddenly filled with the calm resolve seen on the faces of mothers caught in a war zone: women forced into making hard decisions for the survival of all of their children. "I understand, Chichiri-sama. I have spoken with Gennai, but I will try again. You must understand: he adores Doulin and can't bear the thought of being parted from her." Tamure-san's features darkened. "Unfortunately, he also spends too much time listening to the gossip of his customers in the shop – useless idlers who live to spread poison and lies!"

Tasuki's eyes darkened. "Not all lies," he murmured softly.

"Nor the whole truth," interjected Chichiri, frowning at his brother seishi.

Tamure-san's eyes went from one seishi to the other, astutely perceiving the pain in one's eyes and the anger in the other's. Her heart clenched in sympathy for them. "A half-truth is nothing more than a lie," she assured them softly. "I can believe nothing but good of either of you, and I know that Gennai will soon realize his mistake and apologize--"

"You have apologized for me enough, Yukari!" Tamure Gennai moved into the room, his features drawn and tight. "I don't need my wife to apologize for me; I am not the sort of man to hide behind a woman!"

Tasuki tensed at his approach, unconsciously moving his hand towards his sword hilt, knowing that the man thought the worst of him. Gennai was still young, perhaps in his early thirties, his light green eyes forming a startling contrast against his dusky skin and dark hair. He was much shorter than the younger seishi but stocky and muscular, a noteworthy opponent in any fight. He continued to approach Tasuki in a purposeful manner, his eyes flicking to Tasuki's sword hand but showing no fear. Chichiri moved closer to his brother seishi, one hand on his prayer beads and the other on his shakujou, reading the turmoil in Tamure's ki.

Just when Tasuki thought that he would have to draw his sword, the older man stopped, staring fiercely into the amber eyes – then dropped down into the same deep and humble bow his wife had just made minutes ago, touching his forehead to the ground. His voice was low and intense.

"_Gomen nasai,_ Suzaku no Seishi Tasuki, for my thoughtless insult to your honor. I ask that you continue to offer your protection to my daughter...and that you take my worthless life in compensation."

Tasukii stared in shock, stunned into silence. Finally he regained the ability to speak. "What the fuck?" he asked weakly.

At that moment, young Benjiro re-entered the room balancing a tray with a steaming pot of tea and four porcelain cups. His mouth dropped open at the sight of his proud father kneeling humbly before the Suzaku seishi. Uncertain of what had just occurred, he set the tray quickly on a nearby table and dropped down into a bow next to his father.

"Awww, crap!" swore Tasukii. "Wouldja all just quit bowin' ta me? You're makin' me nervous, goddammit! I ain't takin' _nobody's_ life, ya hear me?"

Chichiri moved in once again. "Please get up, Tamure-san. As Tasuki has said in his, er, _expressive_ way, your apologies are accepted, your daughter will remain under our protection, and we would never think of taking the life of a man who protects and loves his family as much as you do."

Gennai rose heavily to his feet but continued to stare at the ground, not meeting their eyes. His shame was apparent in the bitter twist of his mouth and the weight of his pained words. "Thank you, Suzaku no Seishi, for your kindness to myself and my family...but I'm afraid that I _am_ worthless as far as protecting my family is concerned." He finally lifted his eyes to meet Tasuki's gaze, his eyes dark with pain. "I wasn't there for her," he explained simply. "I wasn't there – and she would have died if you hadn't been there in my stead. I let my shame at failing her overtake my good sense, and instead of thanking you, I struck out at you, wanting you to feel the same pain I felt. I knew that I was repeating half-truths and lies...but for one moment, I wanted to punish you for having the ability to succeed where I failed."

Tasuki stared at the man, once again struck silent, this time by the man's brutal honesty. Chichiri also remained silent, knowing that this time, forgiveness would have to come from Tasuki himself if it was to mean anything at all to Gennai. Finally, Tasuki gathered his wits and began to speak.

"Ya didn't fail your family, Tamure-san; not unless ya have a fire-spewing tessen, a magician friend, and a personal warning from Taiitsukun hidden in your back room. That's what it took to find and stop that fu…thing. You're just plain stupid if ya think that ya could've stopped it with your bare hands, or even with your life. It took everythin' both me and 'Chiri had ta kill that fucker, I mean _monster_. So as far as I'm concerned, you're no failure in protectin' your family." Tasuki's eyes narrowed. "But you're right about one thing: you were a complete asshole, I mean _idiot, _ta say that shit ta me before about a situation you know nothin' about. I ain't gonna pretend that I wasn't royally pissed off; ya probably picked up on that when I stormed outta here. So I figure you owe me somethin' in compensation, but I don't want your fu…damn life!" Tasuki glanced over at the tea and cups. "There's only four teacups there, and I ain't one for tea if there's somethin' better around. So I figure you owe it to me to break out your best bottle of sake, pull out a couple of cups, an' you an' me could have some _real _drinks, leavin' the tea to the children, ladies, and monks."

Tamure Gennai stared at the seishi, his shoulders straightening at the return of his dignity by the younger man. His jaw grew tight. "I accept your terms, Suzaku no Seishi Tasuki – on one condition only." His eyes held a challenge. "You must stop calling me Tamure-san and must address me as Gennai."

Tasuki's eyes danced. "All right, Gennai; I accept _your_ terms on the condition that you stop callin' me 'Suzaku no Seishi Tasuki' – fuckin' mouthful, anyhow – and start callin' me just Tasuki. Oh, and that sake had better be your _best_ sake, not your second-best!"

"Done!" snapped out Gennai... then both men burst out laughing.

Chichiri smiled to himself, Yukari leaned back into her chair in relief, and young Benjiro gazed at Tasuki with admiration and hero-worship spilling from his eyes.

"Ain't," the boy whispered to himself, having seized upon a new role model. "I ain't…. goddammit…" His whispers were very soft, sensing that his father would not appreciate the new additions to his vocabulary, but at the same time, his father would be unable to rebuke him without insulting the bandit-seishi again.

At this moment, a small figure appeared in the room, her bare feet peeping out from beneath her nightdress, her long white hair in wild disarray around her face. She smiled at Tasuki and began approaching him.

Tasuki looked at her in trepidation. "I swear, if one _more_ person in this family tries ta bow to me, I'm goin' out to sleep in the fuckin' _barn!_"

Subaru laughed merrily, at this moment in full possession of her reincarnated personality. "No fear of that, Fang-boy!" she taunted him, making her mother draw in her breath at her daughter's insolence, and in wonder at the adult tones issuing from her small child. "I came in because I didn't want to miss the party!"

"Doulin-chan," began Yukari in an admonishing tone.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Tamure-san," assured Tasuki. "I hadda put up with stuff from Subaru when she was an old lady...but now I know how to get even with that smart mouth."

He jumped at the little girl and swept her up into his arms, tickling her mercilessly. Subaru screamed and shouted in laughter, hanging half-upside-down out of his arms.

"Fuckin' barn!" whispered Benjiro in admiration, once his father left the room to get the good sake. He looked up to see his sister's blue-grey eyes staring upside-down into his as she dangled from the seishi's arms.

"Listen, aniki – you get to _talk_ like a bandit only when you're old enough to _be_ a bandit, you hear me?" Reaching out, she grabbed and tweaked her brother's nose.

****

The next morning dawned gray and overcast, reflecting the dejected mood of the young family as they prepared to bid farewell to their youngest member. Chichiri drew near to Gennai and Yukari while Tasuki distracted the children with a game of tag around the courtyard, making them squeal with delight as he used his seishi speed to escape them at the last possible moment before capture.

Gennai watched the tall, slim figure of the red-haired seishi as he darted about the courtyard, unmindful of the dust he kicked up onto his dark blue velvet tunic and breeches while laughing in unrestrained delight as he teased the children. Gennai shook his head.

"He's amazing!" he breathed in wonder. "That speed! It's no wonder that you were able to overtake that creature!"

Chichiri smiled. "Yes, he is incredible. After so many years together, he's finally realized that I can't keep up with him over short sprints, so he's taken to throwing me onto his back. Undignified, yes, but considerably less painful than being dragged through the streets by one arm!"

Gennai stole a glance at the unmasked visage of the warrior-monk, his smiling features as catlike and mysterious as the strange mystical mask. He tried not to stare at the scar that slashed across Chichiri's left eye, but he couldn't help wondering…

"No, it causes me no discomfort at all. In fact, I've barely noticed it these past few years." Chichiri looked up apologetically at the startled expression on Gennai's face. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to intrude on your thoughts." He smiled ruefully. "It's an unfortunate habit I picked up from an old friend." The smile grew sad and wistful.

Yukari met his gaze compassionately. "Someone you've lost?" Her tones were gentle and sympathetic.

Chichiri's eye grew warm with memory. "Someone I miss," he replied simply. He was startled by the direction in which his thoughts had turned. Ever since Mitsukake had made the decision to be reborn into the world, thus leaving his past--and his friends--behind, Chichiri had found himself reminiscing more and more often about his first confidant. Not Hikou, but the man who came later, in those dark days following the deaths of everyone he loved; the first man to pull him out of his dark and lonely existence. Chichiri felt his throat tighten with sorrow, then turned his thoughts with an effort to comforting the family who was now experiencing a similar feeling of loss.

"Tamure-san," he addressed both husband and wife, "I wish to assure you that we will protect Doulin with our lives. But I won't lie to you and tell you that she is out of danger. For that reason, I can't tell you exactly where we are taking her or for how long; the information might endanger you as well as her. We don't know enough about this enemy: where it comes from, what it seeks, and why it is singling out all of the shichiseishi from every country. Nor do we know how it is able to find our whereabouts. For this reason, I would ask you to tell me the name of someone you would trust with your own lives, someone you would trust as if they were family. I will contact that person through my own intermediary to let you know when we have reached our destination. In this way, there will be no direct way to trace Doulin's whereabouts, no direct communication between us." He sighed. "However, nor can I promise you regular communication on this situation. For one thing, I'm not certain if Tasuki and I will remain with the children, or if we'll be sent out to fight once again. You must trust in Byakko, in all of the seikun and Taiitsukun to keep Subaru safe."

Gennai burst out in sudden agitation. "Do you mean that you're just going to leave her alone somewhere without your protection? You never told us that! What's the point of taking her away if you're not even going to guard her!"

"Tamure-san, I assure you that all of the children we have found so far still remain safe in this...hidden place. There are other equally powerful guardians watching over them. Furthermore, Subaru is not the last of the young shichiseishi left out in the world unprotected; would you have us abandon the rest to their fates?"

Yukari placed her hand on the monk's arm. "No, Chichiri-sama; I wouldn't wish on any other mother the experience of watching that creature…" she choked, then forced herself to continue. "I will have faith that Byakko and Suzaku sent you here to rescue Doulin for a reason, and that they will continue to protect her, even if you are needed elsewhere."

Gennai bowed his head in accord with his wife. "It seems that I'm always having to apologize to one of you for doubting you," he replied heavily. "Please forgive my impertinence, Suzaku no Chichiri."

"There is nothing to forgive. There was no impertinence; only the loving concern of a father for his beloved daughter." Chichiri gripped Gennai's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "There may be dark days ahead for all of us, but you may take comfort in knowing that your daughter is an extraordinary person, Tamure Gennai. I knew her ten years ago, in her former life, and she was impressive then. I can see that she is every bit as exceptional in this life."

Gennai shook his head. "It's so confusing to think of her that way - as an adult and a celestial warrior to boot! I hardly know if I'm awake or dreaming; I mean, I've known through family legend that I was distantly related to Byakko no Subaru, but I never expected her to be reborn as my own daughter." His eyes grew wide as he recalled something else about his famous distant relative. "But wait; Subaru had been married to another Byakko no Seishi - Tokaki, I believe. Have you found him yet?"

Chichiri shook his head sadly. "Not yet. We have others out seeking him, but there are too few of us on this mission. Of the Suzaku seishi, only myself and Tasuki are of sufficient age and power to go out on this quest, and I'm sorry to say that the shichiseishi of Genbu and Byakko are widely scattered in age range: some are too young and many are too old. As for the Seiryuu seishi…" He paused, then continued softly. "Well, we killed all of them ten years ago, so we certainly have no age-related peers among that group." His voice held sadness at the bitterness of the disastrous battle between the two sets of "miko no seishi" - celestial warriors who were born fairly close in age, so as to be capable of joining with their otherworldly priestess in the quest to summon their patron god.

"And the young reincarnate Seiryuu seishi; have you found all of them?" Yukari's voice was filled with maternal compassion.

"Nooooo… and I don't know if we ever will. You see, Kutou was the country where these creatures struck first, but we didn't know of it, being that the Imperial government never let us know anything of their troubles. Not that Konan is in much better economic condition after the ravages of the war with Kutou, but at least we have a stable government and the same emperor from year-to-year, young though he may be. The Dowager Empress Houki is also a fine and compassionate regent, and she would have summoned Tasuki and me to help whoever is currently Emperor of Kutou to defend the reincarnate Seiryuu seishi. But they didn't let us know that this atrocity was going on in their country until it was almost too late. In fact, it was Seiryuu himself who finally intervened in desperation when the souls of his young shichiseishi began disappearing. He let the Oracle know, and she in turn sent us out there."

Yukari's eyes were wide in horror as she contemplated the thought of those nightmare creatures ravaging the Kutou countryside without opposition. "And you found…"

"Terrible things," whispered Chichiri. "Not only the ravages of those beasts against the children, but also the state of abject poverty that holds that country in its merciless grip. The last emperor had used all of the coffers of his country to fund his relentless war efforts and his personal perversions. When he was assassinated, and Nakago disappeared from that country forever, it left Kutou without a leader and without any financial stability. In essence, Kutou is as poor as its poorest peasants." The monk's eyes were dark with memory. "The capital city is falling into ruin, the people fight like dogs for the scraps in the street, and the government changes nearly hourly with whatever military leader can round up a few starving soldiers to help him in a takeover." His voice dropped lower. "And the children - dear Gods, their bones sticking out above and below their swollen bellies, begging for whatever you can give! Tasuki and I gave away all of our rations in the first day we were there. You can imagine how little the people care about a few missing children, no matter what manner of beast descended to carry them away. In the end, it was the other children who let us know what happened to their friends; no one else cared. But we had to leave, because although as seishi, we can go without food for longer periods of time than normal people, even we began to grow weak and faint."

Chichiri smiled ruefully. "And by the Gods, did we ever catch a scolding from Taiitsukun! She pointed out that our deaths by starvation would hardly help to protect the other shichiseishi, and although she knew that Tasuki wasn't the brightest light in the night sky, she expected better of me!" He laughed. "Of course, Tasuki became infuriated and started shouting at her - which was precisely what she intended, I believe, because it brought him out of the depression he fell into after seeing the children of Kutou."

"So _all_ of the Seiryuu seishi are lost?"

"We managed to rescue two of them: the twins." Chichiri smiled. "Mere infants, but they grow stronger every day. I think the fact that there were two of them, each dependent upon the other, helped them to survive the deprivations of their environment."

"But the rest?"

"We can't find them. Not even Seiryuu knows where they are. We even went to the Hin tribes; they're actually better off than the rest of the people in Kutou, being that they're accustomed to living under harsh conditions. They are a secretive people, born out of the persecution they've suffered through the ages, but finally they opened up to us." Chichiri faltered, his words slow and difficult. "It appears that they were attacked shortly before we arrived. Out of nowhere, this beast… One of their children, fair and gentle by all accounts, a beautiful boy even by their standards, and the Hin are a beautiful people in general. Had we gotten there even one day earlier, we might have been in time. As it was, his mother tried to defend him, but she…" He stopped again, unwilling to continue. Finally he resumed, his voice very soft. "I would say it was the will of the gods, but I'm afraid that the gods have very little to do with this. Yet it seems wrong that one soul should have to suffer so much in more than one lifetime."

The three stood in silence for a moment.

Finally, Tasuki grew weary of the game in the courtyard and shouted from beneath a pile composed of two children and a stray dog. "Hey, 'Chiri, we stayin' here for the rest of the year, or what?"

Yukari blinked back sudden tears, handing Chichiri a small bundle. "Here are Doulin's clothes; I packed for both extreme heat and cold, as you had instructed. And some of her favorite toys…" she clenched her teeth, determined not to stage a traumatic farewell for her daughter.

"Doulin!" Gennai called out to his daughter, his voice husky.

Tasuki lifted her off his chest and sent her running to her parents with a quick swat to the behind. He then turned to Benjiro, knowing that the farewell would be painful for the boy as well. "Hey, Benjiro, how would you like to fetch Makaze for me outta the stable? He's all saddled up and ready to go, so whaddaya say?"

Benjiro's eyes went wide at the thought of being allowed to lead the giant black stallion. "_H-Hai!_" he replied breathlessly. "_Hai,_ Tasuki-san!" He ran off to the barn as if he were afraid that Tasuki would change his mind.

Doulin flung herself into her father's arms, biting back sobs. Gennai held her close, burying his face in her little neck, memorizing the scent and feel of her baby skin, her brilliant white hair falling like soft clouds around him. He held her tight for a few more moments...then slowly released her, holding her frail shoulders so that he could look once more into the deep blue-grey eyes.

Tears spilled from his eyes, but his voice was steady. "You be strong now," he cautioned her gently. "And always remember that I'm thinking of you - every minute of every day."

She nodded as she wept, then wrapped her arms around his neck for one last squeeze. He held her tight once more, then gently turned her towards her mother.

She ran to her mother, who clutched her and wept openly, unable to keep to her resolve now that the final moment had arrived. Yukari choked out broken phrases of love and grief. "My baby," she whispered. "My heart's joy. Stay safe for your 'Kaa-chan…and listen to these nice men." She drew in a sobbing breath. "Love you," she wept brokenly. "I'll miss you, baby!"

Doulin hugged her tight as she wept, then suddenly gave a choked laugh as her unborn sibling kicked her angrily. "You take care, too, 'Kaa-chan, and make sure that you tell the baby about me every day, 'cause I want him or her to know me when I come back!"

Her mother nodded and smiled at her through her tears.

Benjiro re-entered the courtyard, proudly leading a huge midnight-black stallion. The horse pranced in a self-satisfied manner, arching his neck and flicking his tail high.

"Fuckin' show-off!" grumbled Tasuki, striding up to take the reins from Benjiro while surreptitiously wiping at his eyes.

Chichiri smiled at his companion as he passed on his way to fetch Hikari, his own white mare.

"Damn dust gettin' in my eyes," muttered Tasuki defensively, shaking some of the particles from his fiery locks.

"Of course," agreed Chichiri serenely.

Benjiro turned towards his little sister, suddenly hesitant at the sight of her tear-streaked face. But she rushed forward unselfconsciously and caught him in a strong hug.

"You have to promise me that you'll take care of them, Beni-nii-chan," she whispered in his ear, using her nickname for him.

"I will," he promised huskily, fighting back tears.

Subaru's face suddenly grew mischievous. "Or else… I'll do _this!"_ she cried, giving him a good, hard pinch. He jumped, then began chasing her around the courtyard, their parents smiling at the two in spite of their tears.

Chichiri returned, leading a snow-white mare. He glanced at the family, then leaned over and whispered to Tasuki, "I think we need a fire-show here."

Tasuki frowned. "D'ya think it's safe?"

Chichiri scowled. "I don't care; they've had enough tears, let's give them something to remember!" He suddenly raised his voice.

"Just look at you!" he shouted at his companion in mock disgust. "Covered in dust from head to toe: you're a disgrace to shichiseishi everywhere!"

The family looked over in trepidation, uncertain if the seishi were suddenly going to begin fighting with one another.

"Oh, yeah?" shouted Tasuki belligerently. "Well, just watch _this!"_

Whipping out his tessen, he pointed it at the monk, making Yukari gasp in horror while Gennai started forward, then suddenly redirected it at the sky. He bent his knees slightly, then shouted "RekkAAAAA Shin'EEEEENN" as he leaped into the air, spinning around in his famous spiral as the flames exploded to swirl above him. He touched down lightly, the dust having been pulled from his clothes and hair by the force of his spin and the heat above him. Tasuki spread out his arms, showing off his now pristine appearance - and the Tamure family burst into cheers as Chichiri clapped him on the back.

He sheathed the tessen in one swift movement, then leaped onto Makaze's back, spurring the stallion towards the little family. They held still, trusting him to know what he was doing--then suddenly cried out as he slipped to one side of the horse and swept up Doulin, depositing her neatly in the saddle before him.

Makaze wheeled around and raced towards the northern road, Doulin's laughter floating back to them on the wind. Chichiri saluted the family from Hikari's back, then turned to join Tasuki.

The small family watched the seishi and their daughter ride off into the distance, listening for Doulin's laughter until it faded away over the next rise. Gennai placed his hand on his wife's and son's shoulders and turned them back towards their home.

Yukari couldn't help expressing one last concern. "Do you think they'll look after her all right?" she asked anxiously. "I mean, she's just a little girl."

Gennai looked back over his shoulder at the now empty road. "As if she were their own," he replied simply, then closed the door.

****

****

Glossary of Japanese terms:

Shakujou – monk's staff

Arigatou – Thank you

-sama – suffix used as a term of high respect, as in "Lord"

Gomen nasai – I'm very sorry

-san – suffix of respect, meaning Mr. Or Mrs. Or Miss – no sex differences in usage

****

**Author's Note:** (1-14-02) Okay, everybody – I'm reeeeeeally tired, it being about 2AM my time, but I was determined to get this chapter out before I left on vacation on Wednesday. Yes, I'm going to vacate! Someplace warm and sunny with palm trees, but here's the best part – with _humpback whales!_ I looooovve whales! So I thought I'd let you know so that you won't think I'm being ignorant in case I fail to answer e-mails for the next two weeks. I also intend to put up an absence note on my author page.

Well, here's a longer chapter at last; nearly 5000 words _more_ than the last chapter! (Kryssa: Yay, Aikido-chan: Booo!) Yes, we're skating around the 7500 word mark today, and we're also beginning to set up the background for the world of the ShiJinTenChiSho as I see it, ten years after the fall of Kutou. Lotsa exposition and politics –no, I'm not joking! Not yet, anyway. But for you "White Stones" fans, I also threw in a fair bit of angst. This is a full-service fic, people. Anyway, if you have any questions you need me to answer, feel free to e-mail me; it's not impossible that I'll find e-mail access somewhere on vacation, maybe even in my hotel room!

Aikido-chan: Yeah, Roku sniffs out Internet cafes the way that dogs sniff out bones!

Roku: (grinning) Shut up, you! No fair tellin' on me!

Next topic: the first appearance of Makaze, Tasuki's black stallion, in this fic. Yes, he did make a couple brief appearances in "The Good Fight" but those don't really count, since that was a weird little protest fic. The point that I wish to make is that Makaze has existed in my mind for nearly a year now...and I'll give you a little sneak preview of a future chapter that features him at length. Picture a veiled and turbaned rider, dressed all in black, exploding out of a sand cloud on a giant black horse, plunging down a dune like the Angel of Death.

Miaka: No, that's Angel of Life, Roku – Angel of _Life!_

Why this weird commercial for a future chapter? Because my sister, Chichiri's Girl, was kind enough to tell me that she has seen trailers for a movie called "The Black Stallion Returns," featuring a black stallion racing through the deserts of North Africa, ridden by veiled and turbaned men. She says that this movie isn't coming out until Spring or Summer 2003 – but I don't want to be accused of stealing my characterization and plot points for Makaze from that movie – a movie I haven't seen yet, of course. This is just one of those weird juxtapositions that happens purely by fate, like Chichiri's line from WS11 that says "I never claimed to be a saint." That line was apparently used in the movie "The Count of Monte Cristo" – a movie I've never seen, yet ended up appearing to have borrowed my line from. As for this new movie… I've been researching the Kel Tagelmust and the Berbers of North Africa for many months now, as both Aikido-chan and Kryssa can tell you – and Kryssa has even been given a complete rundown of the above-mentioned scene, complete with dialogue _aaaannnnd_ music! So when that scene appears in my fic, I will credit any influences and sources, but "The Black Stallion Returns" is truthfully not one of them. Thanks for listening to this strange diatribe defending the originality of my plot!

Now for the straaaaangest part of these notes. Like I said, I'm overtired, plus I've been working on "Casting Stones" a little too much. The end result: an akugi for this chapter! Yes, "Hidden Paths" is essentially a serious fic… but I just couldn't resist! So read on if you think this may amuse you – but skip it if it interferes with your enjoyment of the real plot!

See y'all in a couple weeks – and wish me luck in "writing beneath the palms!"

Ja ne!

Roku

****

Akugi ahead – beware!

In the spirit of studying for the approaching ACTs or other standardized tests for my younger fans (all of you are supposed to be over age seventeen, ya know!) – and because of something that Kaze-chan wrote to me regarding the helpfulness of "White Stones" in teaching her vocabulary words, specifically "cathartic" – I decided to create, with Tasuki's help, a study guide using some of the "tougher" vocabulary words found in this one chapter alone. The thing is… I ended up counting over thirty-five ACT-worthy words! That would make this akugi longer than the damn chapter! So I cut back to the "top ten" – but I will also issue a challenge to my readers at the end of this akugi! So read on if you dare!"

Here's the format – first I will list the word, then the dictionary definition (this is actually correct) and THEN Tasuki's definition! Hint: Please do _not _use Tasuki's definitions on the ACTs – you will not only fail those questions, but also get a pretty heated rebuke from the test committee!

Let's try it out with Kaze-chan's word "cathartic"

Cathartic

dictionary definition 1.: cleansing, purging

Tasuki definition 1: Violent, destructive FUN! (as in _cathartic_ use of the tessen)

Dictionary definition 2: a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension

Tasuki definition 2: Hey! That sounds like whacking off!

Roku: (hits him with a rolled-up newspaper)

Okayyy, if you survived that one – here comes the rest!

Patrons

Dictionary: people who frequent a business or other establishment

Tasuki: Fuckin' drunk-ass barflies

Sycophantic

Dictionary: servile, self-servingly flattering

Tasuki: Ass-kissing!

Sage

Dictionary: wise through reflection and experience

Tasuki: I thought that was somethin' ya found in turkey stuffing!

Colloquialism

Dictionary: a local or regional or informal dialect expression

Tasuki: Fuck!

Effulgent (Roku's – and Spike's! - favorite)

Dictionary: brilliant, radiant, glowing

Tasuki: Fuckin' too much!

Idlers

Dictionary: those lacking employment or purpose

Tasuki: Fuckin useless, do-nothin', gossiping ASSHOLES!

Interjected

Dictionary: to put in between; interpose or ejaculate

Tasuki: (suspicious) Sounds sexual to me! So why the hell is Chichiri doin' it? He's supposed to be a goddamn _monk!_

Astutely

Dictionary: shrewdly; wisely

Tasuki: (laughing) Sounds like someone had too many beans to me!

Roku: (hits him with a rolled-up newspaper again)

Siblings

Dictionary: one of two or more individuals having a common parent

Tasuki: (darkly) Fuckin' pain-in-the-ass, lyin', cheatin', no playin' fair SISTERS!

Surreptitiously

Dictionary: secretly, stealthily

Tasuki: Hey! I wasn't fuckin' crying!

Okay, that's enough from me! So what's the challenge? For extra points, see if you can name another "vocabulary" word from this chapter – and give the correct definition. For extra, _extra_ points and a lovely take-home hostess gift, see if you can do an accompanying "Tasuki" definition, too! Or any other seishi, for that matter! (Note to – this is a JOKE – I'm not actually giving out gifts!)

Hope you had fun! Ja ne!


	3. First gusts of wind

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story, as well as all original characters, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Warning: Spoilers for OVA 2, for "White Stones in the Moonlight," and worst of all – for _future_ chapters of "Bridge Over the Abyss." Sorry, Bridge fans - it just sorta…happened.

****

**Chapter 3. First gusts of wind  
**

The snow fell heavily, the thick flakes drifting silently, ceaselessly through the darkness to land as softly as lovers' kisses - unless they touched flesh, at which point they sharpened into tiny, icy bites. The great black stallion shook his mane to rid himself of the chill blanket, the white plumes of his snorting breaths lending him a dragon-like appearance in the blue twilight. He tossed his head and stamped in impatience, his irritation shared by the bulky figure on his back.

The figure shifted his weight slightly and shook his own head, the flames of his hair gleaming beneath the white flakes that clung to each strand. His teal collar was turned up against the chill air, the rest of his midnight blue coat flaring out around the bulge at his waist, making him appear as if he were great with child – which, in a way, he was. The child rested against his body as he tried desperately to shield her from the relentless cold, pulling her close. He grew alarmed at her limpness as she reclined against his chest, and decided that he could wait no longer.

"'Chiri!" he burst out, shouting towards the cloaked and hooded figure standing several meters away, only dimly visible through the veil of drifting white. "'Chiri, goddamnit, we gotta get out of here! Just fuckin' give _up_, already!"

The magician stood with his arms outstretched, one frozen hand grasping the shakujou, the other hand reaching with trembling, near-frostbitten fingers for the elusive, mystical tendrils he could feel almost within his grasp. But the angry shouts broke his concentration, making him hurl an explosive curse as the tendrils swirled out of his grasp yet again. He whirled around, enraged at the interruption, preparing to give his companion a severe dressing down--until he saw him shake his small burden.

"Doulin! Goddamnit, open your eyes! Come on, wake _up_, Subaru! Come _on!"_

The small girl sighed and shifted within his coat but didn't waken. Tasuki turned panic-stricken eyes towards Chichiri, who placed cold but gentle fingers on the child's head, frowning in concern.

"See, Chiri? We gotta go back down the mountain an' get her someplace warm! We'll just hafta try to get to the Refuge later."

"No time!" snapped Chichiri. "She'll never make it all the way back down Crystal Mountain."

Tasuki began to curse fluently, the harsh words contrasting sharply with the tenderness of his motions as he brushed the accumulating snow from Doulin's hooded head. "As much as I'm a mountain lover, I fuckin' _hate_ every goddamn mountain in Hokkan! First fuckin' Mount Black, now this godforsaken shitpile! Why the fuck couldn't we just have hidden the children at Mount Taikyoku? Be a hell of a lot easier to get to, for one thing!"

"That's exactly the problem, Tasuki: the easier it is for us to find, the easier it would be for _them_ to find it as well. You remember how Tenkou was able to penetrate and attack Mount Taikyoku--and this enemy appears far more formidable." Chichiri huffed out an impatient breath. "Enough of this! I have to get us inside _now--_and I need your help, Tasuki."

Years ago, Tasuki would have wasted time with questions and arguments, but he was no longer that same impulsive young man. "Take whatever you need."

"I'll need everything you can give."

"Like I said: take it."

Chichiri nodded, then turned back in the direction he had originally been facing. He flung his arms out, reaching, _reaching_ with his fingers, mind, spirit. He struggled to maintain the shield over their three ki forces while at the same time stretching for the key that would unlock the mystical entrance to the Refuge within the mountain. Just as his strength began to waver, he felt Tasuki send his ki force towards him--and he seized it, grasping it and intertwining it with his as he commanded the mystical gateway to open to him.

The gateway shivered away from his command, escaping him yet again. Chichiri pulled more strength from Tasuki as he psychically pursued the elusive key. He was aware of the younger man shivering violently in the cold, clasping the tiny girl to him with what remained of his strength, and he knew that if he spent the last of their ki in a futile effort, all three of them would die of exposure right on the threshold of safety. He felt another surge of power as Tasuki sent the last of his ki to him, and also caught the stifled gasp of pain torn from the redhead's throat.

That was it. Chichiri let his rage at his brother's suffering; no, his rage at the suffering of _all_ of the shichiseishi, the children in particular, fill him with a dark and violent force. He fed on the darkness, using its fierce power to send his ki spinning through the ether, eagerly hunting the elusive gateway. He knew that this was dangerous on more levels than he cared to consider, but he was _damned_ if he'd let them die before the battle was even engaged! He cursed the over-zealous security measures that threatened the very people it was supposed to protect, damning Taiitsukun's short-sightedness and their hidden enemy whose murky motives forced their hand, then finally cursed the unexpected spring snowstorm that had blown up out of nowhere, changing a dauntingly difficult ascent into an insane race against time and the elements.

His ki fed on the dark energy, ffixing on its quarry--the mystical gateway, twisting just out of reach--and his life force suddenly burst forward, grasping the gateway in a red-clawed grip.

"Open to me!" howled the magician, as his ki lashed out and tore the gateway asunder.

The sky, earth, and air detonated around the three humans and their horses, the mountaintop exploding beneath their feet as they were sent spinning through a painfully dazzling white light…ending by falling into a final velvet darkness.

****

Pain. Pulsing in his head, radiating from his limbs, shivering through his teeth. Pain was good, proving that one was still alive. He held onto that thought as he drifted up towards consciousness, his senses returning slowly.

He heard someone retching near him, the dry, racking heaves punctuated intermittently by weak but heartfelt curses. Also nearby was the sound of a young girl sobbing, and the murmur of voices trying to comfort her. Relief swept through him, and he opened his eye, wincing as the light sent daggers into his aching head. He forced the pained orb to focus on the blurred bulk before him… Oh, _Gods!_

He nearly jumped back at the dreadful visage looming not ten inches from his own face, his heart pounding at its unaccustomed proximity before his rational mind reassured him with its familiarity. Taiitsukun, damn her, letting her ugly features fill his range of vision… and letting her satisfaction at his flinch gleam in her hooded eyes.

"So!" The harsh voice rang in his ears, the pain bringing small motes of light to dance before his eye. "This is a pretty state of affairs! I had hoped that the continued proximity of you two to one another would result in some of your circumspection rubbing off on that hot-headed loudmouth over there…" she waved a hand towards the still-retching seishi, who acknowledged her with a curse,"…but instead, I find that _his_ hot-headedness has rubbed off on _you!_ Instead of opening a gateway, you decided to execute the spiritual equivalent of knocking down the entire _wall!_"

He had had enough. His still-throbbing headache and the memory of their desperation fueled his temper, and he let fly, cursing Taiitsukun as thoroughly as his younger companion had ever done.

"Damn you, Taiitsukun, don't you _dare_ take me to task for the desperate measures your ignorance forced me to take! I had knocked, I had psychically _banged_ on your door and rattled your windows, and still your seven-times accursed gateway would not let us in! I have warned you of this difficulty in the past and begged you to either alter the spell or set sentries on the gate to assist from within, but obviously my advice means very little in the great scheme of things. Perhaps it would suit your purposes better to have three of the shichiseishi dead on your doorstep!"

The monk knew that his show of temper would amuse Taiitsukun more than offend her, and as expected, he saw her eyes gleam with enjoyment at his first curses. But the Oracle's expression grew grim at the end of his diatribe, and she floated back, adjusting her ribbons.

"It would not suit my purposes at all, Suzaku no Chichiri, as well you know. But there are new and serious developments that prevent us from loosening any of our security measures, and I would speak with you privately about them; both of you. Nyan!" she called.

Three of the small blue-haired girls floated up, each bearing a cup of a fragrant herbal draught, which they handed to Doulin and the two men. A fourth Nyan-nyan crouched near the young, white-haired seishi, urging the girl to drink. Chichiri swallowed his dose and immediately felt better, noting by the cessation of retching that Tasuki had done the same.

Tasuki rose from his knees and stalked over to the Oracle and her disciple. "Goddamnit, Ba-baa, why the fuck didn't you give me that drinkfive minutes ago, while we were waiting for 'Chiri to wake up? Woulda saved me a lotta grief!"

"I have no idea," replied Taiitsukun, deadpan. "Perhaps I was distracted by your colorful comments."

Tasuki surged forward in anger, but Chichiri placed a restraining hand on his arm. "The fault is mine, Tasuki. I'm sorry that I put you through so much."

Tasuki calmed immediately, following the Oracle and the monk as they moved deeper within the cavern. "I'm not mad at you, 'Chiri; you only did what you had to. And the important thing is that it worked, right?"

They had reached a makeshift temple set up in one of the larger chambers. Unlike the extensive facilities at Mount Taikyoku, this was the only place for Taiitsukun to reside, receive visitors, and commune with the four seikun. The interior was decorated with statues of the four gods centered around Taiitsukun's dais, but the ceiling was much lower than the vaulted temple at Mount Taikyoku, revealing sparkling crystals jutting from the stone. Taiitsukun took up her customary position floating above the dais, rearranging her ribbons. The drip of moisture trickling down the crystal-studded walls and the scent of sacred incense conferred upon the temple the tranquil atmosphere of its larger counterpart in the center of the ShiJinTenChiSho.

"I have called you here, Suzaku no Seishi, to enlighten you on recent discoveries. As you know, the seikun and I have not been idle while you have been on your mission to find and rescue Byakko no Subaru. We have used all of our combined powers and resources to discover more about this hidden enemy; if not its purpose, then at least its methods. What we have found has given us an indication of its limitations… and at the same time, has shown us that these limitations recede a little more each day before its growing power."

Taiitsukun sighed. "The Enemy is our only name for it since we know so little of it. Yet the fact that these flying creatures have not completely overrun us tells us that the Enemy cannot move freely through our world; not yet, anyway. So far, only the shichiseishi children have been openly attacked. This suggests that the Enemy fears, or is at least wary of, the powers of the adult seishi. However, we are uncertain of the safety of some of our elderly seishi, since their powers wane with age. Genbu is particularly concerned about this possibility since he has three seishi over the age of eighty."

"So Old Snake-Fucking-Turtle has actually woken up long enough to express an opinion on any of this?"

Taiitsukun sent a quelling glare at the bandit. "Not only is the eldest seikun awake, but also present in this temple and listening in on our conversation, Suzaku no Tasuki! So you may want to reconsider your penchant for blasphemy for the next few minutes!"

Tasuki swallowed nervously and decided to keep silent for once.

"As I was saying, we have found out more of the Enemy's mode of operation by using all of the spiritual channels at our disposal. And what we have found is chilling." The Oracle's voice took on a grim edge. "Since the Enemy is as yet unable to move freely through this world, it has worked around this limitation by enlisting allies--_human_ allies."

"Fuck! What in fthe seven hells are they _thinkin'_?"

"Probably the same things mercenary humans have been thinking since the beginning of time, Suzaku no Tasuki. Possibly some are in desperate straits, playing the betrayal game just to survive, while others merely live for the easy profit or the lure of power. And there are some who _enjoy_ the murder and mayhem: bandits, slavers and the like."

"Not _my_ guys; they're not that fuckin' stupid _or_ immoral!"

"No, indeed we are indebted to your associate Kouji for bringing to our attention the attempted recruitment by persons unknown of bandits for mysterious tasks such as raids on holy monasteries, and the locating of certain _special_ children. Although you are correct in predicting that the Mount Reikaku bandits would refuse to fall in with such schemes, they are by far not the only group of bandits in our world."

"Goddamnit! What's it gonna cost them to refuse this offer? They're in trouble, aren't they? I gotta get there _now."_

"I'm sorry, Suzaku no Tasuki, but I'm afraid that is impossible. Your presence is required on a far more important mission."

Tasuki's voice rose in frustration. "What could be more important than making sure that Kouji and the gang are all right?"

"The rescue of the Priestess of Suzaku…and Suzaku no Seishi Tamahome."

He was struck silent with shock, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Chichiri moved forward from the shadows where he had been standing quietly, listening with a meditative demeanor. He was equally as shaken as Tasuki but kept his voice low and controlled.

"How can this be? They should be safe in their world. How can what threatens us possibly touch them?"

The Oracle's reply was dry. "Tenkou succeeded in reaching across two worlds to attack them, and I have already informed you that the power of this Enemy makes Tenkou's efforts look like a child grasping at toys. We have found out that the dark spiritual energy that signifies the Enemy is massing at the interface between the worlds. It has tried and failed twice to breach the barrier--but there are cracks developing in the barrier, and we fear that the Enemy will very shortly be able to send some agents into Miaka's world." The Oracle paused, her harsh voice edged with anxiety. "Of course, there is yet another Priestess in that same time and place who may also be a target."

"The Priestess of Seiryuu: Miaka's friend Yui." Chichiri's reply was equally grim.

"That is a distinct possibility. And Chichiri… this information has come to us at very high price_--very_ high."

The monk lifted his gaze, surprised at the sudden soft sympathy in Taiitsukun's voice. He felt the cold hand of dread grip his heart. "What price?" he rasped, his throat tight.

"The ones who had been tracking the movements of the Enemy with their spiritual gifts were the monks of Suzaku at the monastery in--"

"What do you mean, _were?_ They're not--!"

Taiitsukun held his gaze, her hooded eyes conveying sorrow and regret.

"Oh, _Gods!"_ The words burst out of Chichiri as the darkness swirled around him yet again. Oh, dear gods, would this _never_ cease? Was he destined to lose everything in this life that he had ever cared for? He felt his vision darken at the edges, while at the same time, clear images rose in his memory: peaceful alcoves, the shining trickle of a tiny stream, the intricate yet soothing patterns of smooth stones in a meditation garden. This refuge to which he returned on occasion to refresh his weary wanderer's soul, communing with the gentle and wise monks who resided there; was it really lost forever?

He felt his legs weaken from the shock. A strong hand seized his elbow, supporting him.

"Steady there, 'Chiri." The normally rough tones were uncharacteristically gentle. "I'm here with ya; don't lose it, now. We're gonna make it through this, I promise."

Chichiri leaned his head back against Tasuki's shoulder, drawing strength from his touch. Was it just one week ago that he had offered comfort to Tasuki? That was how life worked: giving and taking, circles and spirals… He let his mind trace the shapes of the eternal oscillations of existence, drawing comfort from the abstract meditation in the way that the Master had taught him. The Master's teachings…perhaps not lost forever, if they continued to live in him.

He drew on this thought to fuel his strength, and straightened, squeezing Tasuki's shoulder in gratitude. He turned to face the Oracle, his voice intense and resolute.

"No more sacrifices! Tell us what we must do."

****

The three figures moved back towards the main cavern, passing through low-ceilinged corridors whose surfaces glittered in the lantern light with thousands of brilliant crystals. The crystals which gave the isolated mountain its name also made it the perfect choice for the Refuge: the angular surfaces of each crystal not only blocked any psychic energy probes from outside, but also scattered the powerful ki signatures of the warriors within, effectively concealing their presence.

Tasuki hesitated as they passed one of the larger chambers within the mountain, pausing politely to allow one of Nyan's manifestations to duck inside with several cups of warm milk.

"Would it be okay to look in on th' kids one last time?"

He appeared to be asking Chichiri, but Taiitsukun knew that it was her permission that he sought.

"Of course!" she barked. "Just don't take too long."

Tasuki scowled to hide his gratitude, while Chichiri smiled at the soft spot that the bandit had for children; a soft spot that he unsuccessfully tried to hide.

Tasuki and Chichiri stepped into the children's dormitory, and were immediately met with cries of delight from many of the young inhabitants. They were instantly tackled by a small fury with cloud-white hair: Doulin, fully recovered from the cold and from the shock of their violent entry into the Refuge.

"Tasuki-kun! 'Chiri-san! I knew that you would come to say goodnight! Look, I've made lots of new friends already!"

She waved a hand around the dormitory, indicating children who ranged in age from 6 months--the infant twins in one cradle--to 9 years: a dark-haired boy with mischievous eyes, who had, as eldest, appointed himself the leader of the child seishi.

Doulin's eyes suddenly grew adult and serious, and she leaned in to whisper to the monk. "I'm not sure if all of them have their seishi memories back, so I'm just talking to them all as children."

"Very wise, Subaru," approved Chichiri. "You're correct: some remember, but others do not, and it's best not to force the memories on them."

Tasuki was knocking fists with the dark boy. "Hey, Chamka, keepin' the troops in line?"

The boy grinned back at him. "Yeah, no problem with this bunch." He lowered his voice. "You know, Tasuki, you can call me Tomite; I have all my memories back. Not like him," he said sadly, indicating a boy of seven with long silvery grey hair trailing over his right eye, sitting on a cot and studying a scroll, blatantly ignoring them.

Tasuki gripped the boy's shoulder reassuringly. "Try not to worry, Tomite; like 'Chiri said, it's best not to force the memories. They'll come back in their own time. Anyway, you can always try to make friends without relying on your past lives."

Tomite sighed. "Yeah...but I already screwed up with Emtato. Tried to force our old relationship, and now he won't even talk to me and gets really angry if I call him Hikitsu."

Tasuki gave the boy another reassuring grin. "Maybe that's the way to go with old tight-ass Hikitsu: keep pissin' him off, and when you find ice-snakes crawlin' up your ass, you know that you got through to him!"

Tomite finally laughed, and Tasuki slapped him on the back, turning to join Chichiri as they approached the four children who were always found in close proximity to one another. The eldest, a seven-year old with light chestnut hair, was patiently reading from a picture scroll to a chubby black-haired four-year old, while a pixie-faced six-year-old with long violet hair hovered protectively near an astoundingly beautiful two-year-old child, trying to get the little one to drink a cup of milk.

"Come on, Sai," he urged the child gently. "Drink it for Ryuuen. How else are you going to grow up to be a big, strong man?"

Tasuki raised an eyebrow. "Uh, 'Chiri, hasn't anyone told--?"

He was interrupted by the monk shaking his head and raising a finger to his lips.

The seven-year-old stopped reading at the sound of their voices and smiled in delight. "Tasuki-kun! Chichiri-san! It's good to see you again! How did the mission go?"

"Pretty well, Chiriko, as you can see." Tasuki waved Subaru over to them. "Do you remember Subaru?"

"Of course. How could I forget such a kind and beautiful lady?" exclaimed the boy.

Subaru blushed in pleasure and returned Chiriko's polite bow.

"Smooth," murmured Tasuki under his breath. "Real smooth, Chiri-chan; gonna be a lady-killer in no time."

Chiriko flushed and elbowed the redhead affectionately.

The four-year-old, miffed at having his story so rudely interrupted, stuck out his lower lip.

Tasuki turned to him and grinned. "How's it goin', Juan?"

The pouting lower lip began to tremble, and the child let out a loud wail. "I don't like your scary face!"

"Oh, fuck, here we go again! What the fuck did I ever do to ya? It's not like I'm gonna flame ya or anythin'!"

The four-year-old wailed louder. "I don' waaaanna be flaaaaaamed!"

A small fist connected with Tasuki's stomach and sent him flying across the room, where he hit the wall with a loud thud. He raised dazed eyes to meet a sparkling violet gaze.

"Just leave him alone, all right?" warned the six-year-old softly.

Tasuki groaned, clutching his solar plexus. "Goddamnit, Nuriko, you know damn well that I didn't do anythin' to him!"

Meanwhile, Chichiri swiftly picked up the wailing four-year-old, who quieted immediately in his favorite seishi's arms, burrowing his head into the monk's kesa.

The purple-haired boy raised innocent violet eyes to the bandit's angry amber gaze. "Nuriko? Who's Nuriko? My name is Ryuuen."

Smirking at Tasuki, the young boy sauntered away to rejoin the two-year-old, who watched all of these exciting events with wide dark gold eyes, twisting fine chestnut curls in tiny fingers.

Tasuki pulled himself to his feet, muttering curses under his breath. Chichiri raised his eyebrows at his colleague. "Fuckin' hell! I'm tellin' ya, 'Chiri, that little shit has _all_ his memories! He's just _pretending_ that he doesn't, so he can knock me into a wall every chance he gets! Lookit the way he hangs all over Hotohori; just like old times!"

"Well, if he truly has all his memories, perhaps he's also getting back at you for the time you sent him off on a wild goose chase, claiming that Tasuki was dead."

"Fuck!" muttered the bandit. "Whose fuckin' idea was it to spend time with these little shits, anyway?"

"Yours," reminded Chichiri, setting Mitsukake down to rejoin Chiriko.

"Fuck!" grumbled the bandit again.

Just as things were settling down in the children's dormitory, a commotion occurred at the entrance. Two men appeared in snow-covered cloaks, escorting a much smaller cloaked figure between them. The small figure threw back his hood to reveal long hair as white as Subaru's, framing an elven face with uptilted sparkling gold eyes. Small gold hoop earrings gleamed in the lamplight, as the boy hooked his thumbs through his tunic belt.

"Greetings to all my fellow celestial warriors!" he announced grandly. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lanva Hahm, otherwise known as Byakko no Shichiseishi Tokaki. I am very pleased to make the acquaintance of all you gentlemen and ladies…_especially_ the ladies!" His eyes gleamed at the sight of Doulin's white hair.

Doulin stiffened at his leering regard.

"Oh, just shut up and get in there!" snarled the sable-haired young man standing behind him, giving the boy a hard shove into the room. Tokaki stumbled but soon regained his balance and began sauntering casually in Doulin's direction.

Tasuki and Chichiri approached the two cloaked seishi. "Hatsui, Urumiya, great ta see you!"

All four seishi began grasping hands warmly, glad to see that their compatriots had survived their latest mission.

Chichiri turned a sympathetic gaze towards the blond Genbu warrior. "Rough trip?"

"You don't know the half of it!" exclaimed Urumiya, brushing his long bangs out of his eyes. "Not the rescue part; that went as planned. The hard part was trying to transport that _ecchi_ youngster back here; that's where we caught all the grief!"

"_Ecchi?_" asked Tasuki, frowning at the boy, who was now trying to chat up a scowling Doulin. "I mean, he definitely was a lech in his last life, but isn't he a little young to be that way already?"

"Tell that to all the serving girls in every inn we stopped at between Sairou and here," grumbled Hatsui. "You would think that seven was a little young to be interested in the opposite sex, but not for _him_; he was groping and pinching every female that came within range! And I can't tell you how many times either Urumiya or I got the blame instead of him. We've been slapped more times on this one trip than in our entire adolescence put together!"

"We couldn't get him back here fast enough," agreed Urumiya. "I kept wishing for your shakujou, Chichiri; from what I remember, it packs a pretty good wallop!"

Chichirilaughed at the recollection of the time he knocked out both Hatsui and Urumiya, at the time only twelve and thirteen years old, to save them from Nakago's deadly power.

Meanwhile, the _ecchi _youngster under discussion pulled an object out of his tunic and presented it to a wary Doulin. "This is for you, Subaru."

She examined the solid wooden doll, long strands of white horsehair glued to the figure's head, and a tiny silken dress encasing its body.

Tokaki grinned ingratiatingly at the girl. "Don't you remember? We were husband and wife…lovers," he purred, placing a hand on her thigh.

Tasuki started forward, scowling at the sight of a seven-year-old boy propositioning a six-year-old girl. Past life memories or not, it was still a disturbing picture, and Tasuki was very protective of Doulin. But Chichiri restrained him with a hand on his arm.

Doulin looked down at the hand on her thigh, then at the doll in her hand, and finally at the smiling golden eyes… and promptly slammed Tokaki over the head with the hard wooden doll.

_"Itaiiiiiiiii!"_ he yelled, clutching the rapidly swelling bump on his head. "What did you do that for?" he howled. "Don't you remember that we were married?"

"I remember," Subaru replied calmly. "But the important term is "were." We're not married in this life, and I'm too young to be indulging in the sort of activities you have in mind. So you can take your hentai thoughts and shove them…where a lady can't say."

She got up and walked over to a stunned Chiriko, who had a front-row seat to the domestic quarrel. "Please, Chiriko, go on with reading that lovely story to us, won't you?" she asked sweetly, as she settled down beside him.

The Suzaku seishi went as scarlet as his patron god but continued with his reading aloud as requested. Tokaki sent a narrow-eyed glare at the other seven-year-old boy, who surprisingly smirked at him in return.

The four older seishi tried to smother their laughter.

"Man, I am soooo glad I stayed here to see that!" crowed Urumiya.

"He had that one coming to him," agreed Hatsui happily.

Tasuki grinned and, catching Chiriko's eye, winked at him. "Who woulda ever saw _that_ rivalry developing: Chiri-chan versus Tokaki?"

Chichiri smiled in satisfaction. "Yes, I knew that Subaru could take care of herself; she's always been a formidable warrior."

One of the Nyan-nyans swooped into the room. The only parent present among the children was the mother of the twins, who had just finished feeding the babies for the night. Nyan-nyan flew up to help her settle the infants into their cradle and to shoo the other younger children into their beds.

Chichiri looked at the activity and sighed. "It's time for us to go, Tasuki."

"What, do you have to go out on another mission already?" asked Hatsui in disbelief.

"Yeah," replied Tasuki, his eyes darkening. "A really important one."

Urumiya frowned in confusion. "I thought that we had retrieved all of the children now, except for the missing Seiryuu warriors, of course – and I thought that you had determined that it was hopeless to try that any longer."

"No, that isn't it. There is a new threat…to our Priestess." murmured Chichiri. "And perhaps to the Priestess of Seiryuu, as well."

The Genbu warriors' eyes widened in shock. For one brief period in time, Yui Hongo had been their Priestess as well, and although she had brought back the spirit of the original Priestess of Genbu, Okuda Takiko, Hatsui and Urumiya never forgot their fierce devotion to their temporary Miko.

"We're going with you!" Urumiya announced.

Chichiri shook his head. "You can't," he replied simply. "This is a stealth mission; we can't afford to have too many of the ki forces of the shichiseishi suddenly appearing in the other world. Not to mention that this will be a difficult transmigration for me, and I'm afraid that Tasuki is the only one I can bring across safely. I don't know if we will remain there, or if we will need to bring Miaka, Yui, and Tamahome back here. In any case, if the first situation happens, Taiitsukun can't spare you, since you two and the Byakko seishi Kokie and Toroki are the only shichiseishi who are in the full prime of their powers. If the second situation occurs, I can say with certainty that I can't possibly transport six people in addition to myself across the barrier between the worlds."

The two Genbu seishi grimaced in frustration but were forced to acknowledge the logic of Chichiri's arguments.

"Then take our prayers for your success with you," murmured Hatsui huskily, and the four men embraced briefly.

The Genbu seishi left to return to their quarters, and the two Suzaku seishi turned to leave as well, when suddenly a small cloud-white hurricane barreled into them.

Doulin clutched at Chichiri's kesa, biting back sobs. "You two take care of yourselves, now that I won't be there to look after you, do you hear?"

Chichiri smiled reassuringly at her. "We'll be just fine."

Doulin pulled at Tasuki's coat until he knelt before her, then flung herself into his arms. "I won't forgive you if you let yourself get hurt, do you hear me, Fang-boy?"

Tasuki smiled fondly at her, smoothing her wild hair out of her eyes. "Reason enough for me to be careful," he teased her. "'Specially since I'm plenty scared of Byakko no Subaru!" He nodded over at the scowling figure of Tokaki. "You keep_ him _in line as well, you hear?"

Subaru laughed through her tears. "Oh, he's no problem, believe me! Not as long as I have anything within my reach that I can use as a club, anyway!"

Tokaki grumbled to himself. "Now I get it!" he complained under his breath. "She's into older men, that's the trouble!"

Subaru turned away to return to her bed, suddenly revealing another figure standing behind her. Violet eyes gazed up at the two elder seishi intently. "You send my love to my best girl and Tama-chan, too. And make sure you look after them!"

Chichiri inclined his head, smiling, while Tasuki burst into curses. "Goddamnit, you little shit! I _knew_ you had your memories back, Nuriko!"

The purple-haired child grinned as he turned away. "Who's Nuriko?" he asked innocently, "… Gen-chan!" then winked.

****

The huge black stallion shook his mane, scattering droplets of water but otherwise going along docilely with being saddled up again. In the four years of his life as the mount of the bandit-seishi of Suzaku, Makaze had learned that odd hours and sudden reversals were the rule rather than the exception. So he contented himself with dragging out a few extra wisps of hay from the hayrack before being ridden off into the wintry night yet again.

Hikari, Chichiri's white mare, was equally familiar with a celestial warrior's schedule, so she, too, grabbed an extra mouthful of oats while the magician loaded her saddle bags with supplies.

Chichiri looked across at his long-time companion as his fiery head bent over his task. He noted the occasional clenching of Tasuki's fists as he intermittently paused in thought. Finally Tasuki broke the silence.

"It's been eight years, 'Chiri; bet they've been married a long time. Betcha they got a couple of rugrats underfoot." He raised troubled eyes to Chichiri's gaze. "How're we gonna explain to them that their whole family might be in danger?"

Chichiri read the pain that Tasuki had tried to hide. "I don't think that it's been eight years for them, Tasuki. Time passes slower in their world than in ours, remember? Miaka was only beginning the second phase of her schooling when we last saw her. I can tell you for certain that young women marry at a far later age in Miaka's world than they do in ours. It seems that it is as important there for a young woman to get a complete education as it is for a young man."

Chichiri paused, suddenly vividly reminded of the one who had taught him so much about this other world. He could see her warm brown eyes, hear her unrestrained laughter, feel the shooting sparks of her rage…taste her passion. It was a funny thing. He had spent so much of his life yearning after the lost dream that was Kouran, thinking of her as the only woman he would ever love, unable to let go of her memory even when-- Now that Hikou had revealed the truth behind the tragedy of his youth, and he found out that Kouran had truly loved him after all...only now could he allow Kouran to lie in peace, and relegate her to her proper status in his life as his first love.

Ironically, his thoughts kept turning to the woman who had come after, the woman who had loved him unconditionally, scars, faults and all. Would she be there in Miaka's world? No; she had explained to him that she came from a country far removed from the one the Priestesses had originated from. This country was across a huge ocean, an ocean at least three times bigger than the one that surrounded his own world. If she _were_ there, would she still be older than him…or would he now be older than her? Would time have changed her as it had changed him? Perhaps, but the essentials of her personality had been established long before he ever met her. It was unlikely that she had lost any of those sparkling personality traits that he had so…loved.

Tears suddenly rose in his eye. What a fool he had been in his youth, living for a ghost, letting his chances for true happiness slip from his grasp! Perhaps this was his punishment from the gods for his youthful crimes: that he should always yearn for that which he could never have. He blinked back the tears, glancing over at his companion, now also lost in his own thoughts. He and Tasuki made the perfect partners, he thought ironically; forever yearning after the women they could never have. The difference was that Tasuki had had his happiness torn from his grasp, whereas he had thrown his own chances away with both hands.

Chichiri forced his thoughts back to the present urgency of their situation. He had no time for self-pity--gods, would he turn into a maudlin, gloomy old man? Better death than that future--and better life than death! He pulled on leather boots, replacing his damp leggings and once more donning his heavy hooded cloak while glancing out at the snow that still fell heavily from the night sky. A sudden gust of wind blew into the alcove of the crystal cave that served as a stable, making him shiver in anticipation of the long, cold journey ahead of them.

"I'm sorry, Tasuki." His voice burst out of the silence, startling the other seishi. "I wish that we could at least spend the night here, but I can't shake the feeling of urgency about this mission. I can't explain it; I just feel this overwhelming need to get to Miaka's world as soon as we can. And unfortunately, we have to be far from the Refuge when we cross over, just in case the energy I expend in transmigation is picked up by the Enemy."

"I understand, 'Chiri, and ta tell the truth, I got that same feeling of urgency that you're getting. Besides, what's a little fluffy snow to us celestial warriors, 'specially when one of us has an incredibly _sugoi _coat!"

Tasuki spread his arms apart to show off the mystically refurbished midnight blue coat with the familiar teal trim. He flexed his arms in the old coat that had been adjusted by a simple spell to accommodate the now broader shoulders and chest, and the increased height of its longtime owner. Flipping up the edges of the coat to reveal the new thick silk teal lining, he grinned at the monk, his white fangs gleaming in the dim lamplight.

"See? Better than a personal tailor – everyone oughta have a personal magician!"

Chichiri laughed, glad to see Tasuki's high spirits return. No matter what pain it might cause him, Tasuki couldn't help but be happy at the prospect of seeing Miaka again.

"Yeah," Tasuki agreed quietly, once more showing his uncanny ability to track with Chichiri's thoughts. "It'll be worth it, just to see her once more." His expression brightened. "Not to mention seeing Tama, too; been too long since I had a really good brawl!"

"Tasuki!" scolded the magician in mock reproof.

"Yeah, yeah, I know--I'm supposed to be more mature now." He turned a mischievous gaze on his brother seishi. "Well, you know what I always say: Fuck maturity!"

Their laughter was carried off on the wind as they led their horses into the wintry night.

****

****

**Glossary of Japanese terms:**

ki – life force

"Ba-baa!" – "Old Hag!"

seikun – beast god

ShiJinTenChiSho – the Universe of the Four Gods

ecchi – perverted

"Itaiii!" – "Ouch!" or "It hurts!"

hentai – pervert

sugoi – amazing or cool

****

**Author's Notes: **(1-30-03) Hang on, folks – interminably long author's notes this time!

First of all, thank you to all you reviewers who did the "Tasuki definitions" at the end of the last chapter; your wit really cracked me up while I was on vacation. Secondly, I need to credit sources for info about the Byakko and Genbu seishi for this chapter: Kryssa, Kaze-chan and Purple Mouse, and also the marvelous FY info website "The Fire of Suzaku's Wings" created by Sharla-chan.

Next, I need to address the twins' reincarnation issue. Kryssa very accurately pointed out that Kaika recovered from Tenkou's attack in the manga version of the OVAs, whereas my strong impression from the OVA 1 _anime_ was that Suboshi/Amiboshi had died, since he was never shown getting up and walking away. But that's what I get for shirking my research. This leaves me in the unenviable position of having to…kill Kaika! Aww, don't you feel bad for poor Amiboshi? He gets "killed" how many times in the FY series, and now I have to add my own attempts on his life! He reminds me of Kenny in South Park – Oh my God, they've killed Kaika! Again!

Right now, I'll just leave it to your own imaginations as to how Kaika died at such a young age. I'm too busy being the murderous little fanfic author in the rest of this story. Have you noticed how astoundingly high the body count is in this fic? Marketplace shoppers, a few Seiryuu seishi…and now I've graduated up to an entire monastery full of monks! Pretty soon, Chichiri's going to have to exorcise me; yeah, exorcise me, Chichiri! Whoops! Slipped into Casting Stones mode there for a moment! (winks at Kryssa and CG).

Finally, some good news about upcoming chapters…and some bad news. First, the good news: the exposition is over with for now! For the next few chapters, it's going to be all action, excitement, and emotional storms! The roller coaster will be flyin', I promise!

But… some bad news. As I feared, I'm starting to give away the ending of "Bridge Over the Abyss." Not to mention, I've been away from that fanfic for far too long. So I'm going to spend the next couple of weeks getting that fic up and running again; and for those of you unfamiliar with Bridge, I promise you that it will become as exciting as "Hidden Paths," with wonderful violent confrontations, high-flying emotions and other fun stuff.

The other delay will be due to me having to do some "research" for this fic, possibly field research, on dance clubs and current Tokyo club fashions. Ooh, you say. Ooh is right! I reply.

But we'll end with good news. For now, my travel duties are finished, and hopefully I will be able to achieve a decent writing schedule, with holidays and vacations behind me! See you next time!

Ja ne!

Roku


	4. Random drops of rain

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story, as well as all original characters, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Warning: Major Spoilers for "White Stones in the Moonlight," including the surprise ending. Also, some references to an original character from "Bridge Over the Abyss."

Musical Selection: Hmmm - well, I had Ricky Martin's "La Vida Loca" in mind--the longer, uncut, unmixed version--while Kryssa suggested "Bump, Bump, Bump"… heck, choose any Latin dance tune you like! Just make sure that it's _hot!_

****

Chapter 4. Random drops of rain

Two figures stood in the misting rain in the Roppongi district of Tokyo, peering through the darkness at the colorful and brightly lit marquees adorning various tall, blocky buildings. The taller of the two figures stepped eagerly towards the flashing lights on one sign--then leaped back to avoid being run down by a speeding Toyota.

"Shit! What the fuck was that thing, 'Chiri? Looked like a goddamn demon machine!"

"Calm down, Tasuki. I think that these vehicles are carriages that people use in Miaka's world."

"But where the fuck are the horses? And how do they go so fuckin' _fast?_ HEY!" He bellowed in rage as another passing automobile sprayed muddy water on both of them. "There's another fuckin' thing I can't stand about this world: no goddamn manners! Ya think that people might have the fuckin' decency to be polite, but no, they all gotta be a buncha assholes!"

Chichiri sighed. They were getting nowhere fast just standing here. He sent his ki spinning after the faint and familiar ki signatures of Miaka and Tamahome. Good! Not very far at all: just across this road and down about a stone's throw. And they were in luck; he could also detect the ki signature of the Priestess of Seiryuu. He turned to Tasuki, only to see the other seishi making another attempt to cross the street. Once again he was forced to leap back, shrieking curses at the demon drivers.

"That's _it!_ Let's see how they like a taste of_ fire _in their path! Rekkaaaa Shin'_eeeenn_…"

Chichiri jumped up and grabbed the tessen, forcing the gout of flame parallel to the street instead of bisecting it. All the same, the vehicles swerved to the sound of squealing brakes, nearly mowing the two seishi down in their haste to get away from the sudden explosion of fire.

Chichiri dragged Tasuki into a side alley and shook him hard.

"Tasuki! You. Will. Not. Use. The. Tessen. Do you _understand?_ We're trying to blend in here, _not _call attention to ourselves!"

"Well, fuck, 'Chiri, then how are we supposed to get across the fuckin' street?"

"I think I'd better handle this. Here, step into my kesa."

"But I thought that you didn't wanna draw too much attention to us."

"Well, it's either this, or watch you blow up a significant portion of Miaka's hometown. Let's go!"

****

The newest Latin dance club, called "Ravida Roca" by the locals, was situated on Gaien-Higashi Street in the Roppongi District of Tokyo. It was seething with excitement even at the relatively early hour of 11 PM. Beautiful young things of both sexes strutted for the "doorman," who held the power to either make or break their night by allowing or refusing them entrance. Bundles of thousand-yen bills were passed unobtrusively to ease the admissions procedures--although if one was an American movie star or a world-cup soccer player, no such bribes were necessary.

Yui Hongo gazed excitedly around the huge club, taking in the computerized light display, the giant speakers, and the ballroom-sized dance floor. This was _definitely_ the place to see and be seen--and they were lucky that Tetsuya and Keisuke had troubleshot a home computer system for a grateful policeman who moonlighted here as security. He had talked the doorman into letting them in early, so now they were seated at a table on the far side of the dance floor, getting ready to celebrate Taka and Miaka's return from their extended tropical jaunt.

Yui sent a keen glance at her best friend's face. Yes, Miaka seemed happy enough, free of the shadows that had darkened her eyes scant weeks ago. Perhaps her decision to expedite the wedding was the best thing to do under the circumstances… and therefore Yui's advice was reasonable and wise. Yui's mind drifted back to that first startling conversation between the two friends over a leisurely lunch at a quiet teahouse.

It had been an unusually clear day in late winter, the bright sunlight bringing a promise of spring. The paper blinds had muted the dazzling light, giving the tearoom the soft, golden glow of late afternoon. Except for an elderly couple seated in a quiet corner, Yui and Miaka had been the only customers remaining past lunch hour, their privacy further enhanced by artistically placed shoji screens.

"Yui, do you ever…_dream_ about your seishi?" Miaka's voice had been hesitant, noticeably lacking the chipper cheerfulness that was her signature tone.

Yui had looked up sharply from her cup of tea, instantly attentive. "Of course I do, Miaka. That was a very vivid time in both our lives. I dream less about them as the years go by, but every once in a while…" She shivered, recalling ice-blue eyes staring at her across the gulf of years.

Miaka stared down into her own cup of tea, a half-eaten rice cracker lying forgotten on the plate before her. She kept her face down, but Yui noticed that the tips of her ears were bright red. "I mean, do you ever have… um, _romantic_ dreams about them?"

Yui's mind turned back to those same blue eyes, summoning up the memory of a flat, deadpan voice declaring his love for her. Even at that moment, he couldn't rid his tones of their essential coldness. She shivered again. "Not really," she replied softly, firmly turning her thoughts away from a passionate yet frighteningly intense young man.

"Oh." Miaka's voice trailed off into silence as she continued to stare into her teacup.

Yui pulled herself away from her own memories to focus on her friend's distress. "What's wrong, Miaka? Why don't you come out and say what's on your mind? I promise not to laugh at you."

Her promise was good, as Miaka well knew. Ever since that first disastrous adventure in the ShiJinTenChiSho and Miaka's selfless sacrifice of a wish so that she could save Yui's life, Yui had never again treated her friend with the slightly contemptuous mockery that had been the hallmark of their relationship up until then. She never forgot that she owed Miaka her life, and she was determined to atone for all the pain and tears she had caused her best friend through her own misdirected jealousy and rage.

The same thoughts had probably been flashing through Miaka's mind, because she hesitated only a moment before speaking. "Ever since we graduated, and Taka became settled in his career, I started having dreams. Vivid dreams. About my seishi. Some of the dreams are very…" she took a deep breath and rushed on, "…sexual, but others are just happy and some are very…sad."

Yui raised her eyebrows, trying to remember all of the Suzaku seishi. There was the tall, quiet doctor, the young, brilliant boy… "You've been dreaming those type of dreams about _all_ of them?"

Miaka finally lifted her eyes, letting out a peal of her characteristic laughter. "No, not all of them, Yui! I'm not that bad! Only about one, in fact."

"Who?"

The laughter left Miaka's face. She flushed brilliant red but kept her gaze steadily fixed on her friend's face. "Tasuki."

Yui struggled to keep the shock from her face. Tasuki? The fiery bandit? After what he almost did to her? Of course, he wasn't really responsible; well, not totally responsible, anyway. But she couldn't help but be surprised at the level of Miaka's forgiveness; after all, she herself had been an unwilling participant through her connection with Miaka. The exact events remained fuzzy in her mind, however, due to the effects of the sake that Tasuki had given to Miaka, inadvertently affecting Yui as well.

Miaka had watched and correctly interpreted the progression of expressions on Yui's face. "I know that it seems strange," she murmured, blushing even harder. "I can't understand it myself."

Yui frowned, trying to bring her limited knowledge of psychology into play. "Well, Tasuki _did_ force you to see him in a sexual way, although it was against your will. Maybe you're replaying the events of that night, trying to put yourself in control of the situation."

"No." Miaka's voice was soft but firm. "I don't dream about that night; at least, I try not to. It wasn't erotic at all. It was just," her voice dropped, "terrifying, and then…very sad."

She lifted her face and met Yui's gaze again. "When I dream about_ him_, he's younger; he looks seventeen, the age he was when I first went into the book. And we're laughing and happy, and there's green grass beneath us, and…and then we kiss, and then… you know. But sometimes it changes, and we're on a dark mountaintop, and his eyes are so full of pain and despair, and I'm crying, knowing that I'm leaving him forever and breaking his heart and mine." Miaka's eyes filled with tears. "I don't understand it, Yui," she whispered. "I know that Taka is the one I love, but these dreams are just so _real!_ And I don't know why, because Tasuki and I were never more than friends: good friends, but still…just friends."

Yui reached out and gripped Miaka's hand. "Maybe it's not Tasuki you're dreaming about at all. Maybe he symbolizes some deeper fear in you."

"Some deeper fear?"

"Yes! You said that these dreams started when Taka got his career on track, right? Didn't you two begin seriously planning your wedding at that time?"

"Well, yes, but--"

Yui clapped her hands in delight. "That's _it,_ don't you see? You're just having a case of pre-wedding jitters!" She immediately grew sober again. "Getting married is a huge step, Miaka, no matter how long you've waited for it or how much you love Taka. It's still a serious commitment, forsaking all others for the rest of your life. You won't be a young girl anymore, once you're married, and maybe that's what frightens you." Yui paused for a moment, wondering briefly if she was talking about Miaka and Taka--or herself and Tetsuya. She gave herself an internal shake and plunged ahead. "And that's probably what Tasuki symbolizes in your dreams: a time when you were young, and the world was full of choices."

Miaka frowned, her emerald eyes still troubled and dark. "Maybe you're right." But she had sounded unconvinced.

In spite of her hesitation, Miaka must have been convinced, because less than two weeks later, she announced that she and Taka had dispensed with their plans for a large wedding. They had decided to move the wedding date up to the following week and hold a small private ceremony for family and close friends, followed by a honeymoon in Hawaii. Yui was startled by the rapid change in plans and questioned Miaka privately if there was some new reason for the rushed wedding.

Miaka had laughed her characteristic pealing laugh as she denied any complications. "It's just that it will be cheaper this way. You see, by not having to put money down for a really big wedding, we can afford a really nice honeymoon--and Hawaii is so cheap when you consider the yen-to-dollar exchange rate."

Yui had smiled, knowing that Taka always struggled between his desire to give Miaka everything and his overwhelming impulse to hold onto every last yen. It _did_ seem like the perfect compromise...except when Yui looked deep into Miaka's eyes and saw some shadows still lurking there. "Are you sure that you're not just--running away?"

Miaka shifted her gaze away. "Running away?" Her voice was high and cheerful. "What do you mean? Of _course_ I'm running away--with my soon-to-be-husband!"

So things had progressed as planned, except for that one moment when Miaka had paused before walking down the aisle. Stunning in a Western-style off-the-shoulder white wedding sheath, she looked like the perfect bride--except for the trembling of her lips and the sudden tears in her eyes. For one moment, Yui thought her friend might tear off her lacy veil and turn and run out of the shrine. But Miaka had looked up instead and met Taka's gaze, his deep grey eyes shining with love as he stood waiting for her, breathtakingly handsome in a traditional dark grey tuxedo. She smiled and proceeded down the aisle to officially join her life to the man she loved.

And here they were, freshly returned from their two-week honeymoon, looking every bit as love-struck as any set of newlyweds should. Except, of course, that Keisuke and Tetsuya were monopolizing Taka's attention as they stood at the bar, waiting for a pitcher of Chinese beer. Yui wasn't complaining, however; it gave her a chance to catch up with Miaka in semi-privacy. She had missed her friend more than she expected.

She smiled, admiring Miaka's trendy layered look of a floral printed miniskirt over a tight pair of bicycle shorts. Her ensemble was completed with a lacy cropped camisole and a pair of tight knee-length thick-heeled boots. However, she had chosen to let her long thick auburn locks fall free and unfettered down her back instead of binding them up in the schoolgirl pigtails that were now the rage among the young serious clubbers.

Nor did Yui sport the Lolita look. She raised a hand self-consciously to her newly shorn dark blond locks. Miaka smiled and gently touched Yui's hair. "I like it like this. It brings back memories."

"Yes, it does. Except now I've done it to feel more like myself instead of to hide from the boys."

Both girls laughed, remembering her fierce rejection of male attention in junior high and her radical attempt to discourage it by shearing off her long blond locks.

Yui's gaze grew distant as she recalled her most recent impulse to cut her hair into that long-ago bob. It was hard to explain; maybe it was the memories that Miaka had stirred up by talking about their past in the ShiJinTenChiSho, but she couldn't shake the odd feeling that something was about to happen, and that cutting her hair was somehow the _right_ thing to do. Tetsuya hadn't minded, merely shrugging and saying that he had first fallen in love with her when she had short hair, so why would it bother him now? Of course, he was always that way nowadays, giving her space and telling her that her decisions were her own. Part of her appreciated his recognition of her independence, but another part of her wished that he would at least _once_ in a while take a dominant role so that she would know that he cared. Right now, she wasn't sure if he regarded her as a potential life partner, or just a fun girlfriend to hang out with. Yui sighed, envying Miaka her certainty of where she stood in Taka's life; after all, making public vows was pretty damn indicative of how they felt about one another, wasn't it?

Miaka reached out and grasped Yui's hand. It was funny how close they had grown over the past five years. They were closer than sisters, almost like twins in their ability to track with one another's thoughts.

Miaka tried to divert Yui's thoughts in a more upbeat direction. "You look very slammin' tonight!"

She gazed admiringly at Yui's daring outfit of a backless black cotton spandex top that seemed to be composed mostly of 3 inch wide straps. She completed the ensemble with a pair of skintight dark blue bootleg jeans brushing over short boots with four-inch platform heels. The unusual height of the men in their lives allowed Yui and Miaka to wear very high heels with little or no self-consciousness.

Yui laughed out loud at the American slang term. "Did you pick that up in Hawaii?"

"Yes!" Miaka's grin was mischievous and infectious.

"I like it. I _feel_ slammin' tonight, so watch out, world! Yui Hongo is ready to burn the floor!"

Miaka let out a peal of delighted laughter. "I feel the same way: almost as if something is about to happen!"

Before Yui could comment on the strange juxtaposition of their thoughts, the house DJ took over the mike.

"Hombres y damas, our next number will be taking us back to the last millennium--a hit from overseas in the pen-_ul-_timate year of the last century! So come out and relive the past with the American pop idol, R…"

"Yui!" squealed Miaka, sounding just like a junior-high schooler again. "It's our favorite song from high school!"

Yui jumped up, scanning the crowd clustered near the bar. "Where are the guys?"

"Here they come!"

Keisuke, Tetsuya, and Taka wove carefully through the crowd, Keisuke carrying a tray holding a pitcher of beer and several glasses with the reverence of a high priest bearing a holy receptacle. Yui smiled at the three men; they were definitely three of the hottest males in the club. Although they eschewed any flashy fashions, opting for standard slightly baggy jeans or khakis with guayabera shirts, their stature, athletic grace and handsome features provoked surreptitious glances from several females in the room.

But there was no time for subtle female jousting. The introductory bars of the girls' favorite song were already playing, and couples of all types were hitting the huge dance floor.

"Taka!" shrieked Miaka happily. "Don't you remember this song? Come on, let's dance!"

Taka Sukanami smiled at his new wife, his grey eyes sparkling. He would never grow tired of her enthusiasm or high spirits, her happy shrieks always making his heart beat a little faster. However, he was a little uncertain of his Latin dancing skills. Although he had taken a few perfunctory lessons with Miaka while he was still in college, he was far from confident in his ability. But if it would make Miaka happy…

"Awww, no, Taka! Come _onnnn!_ We just got back here with the beer! Damnit, don't tell me that you and Tetsuya are gonna leave me alone at the table!"

Both men hesitated at Keisuke's familiar whine. It was true, they _had_ just gotten the beer, and it was sort of rude to ditch their partnerless buddy.

"Tetsuya." Yui's voice held a warning note.

Keisuke grinned at his sister's best friend. "Come on, Yui, don't try to make Tetsuya as whipped as Miaka has Taka!"

Both men shouted in denial and began to pummel Keisuke.

Yui rolled her eyes at the immature antics of the testosterone trio, and grabbed Miaka's arm. "Come on, Miaka, we're wasting our time here! Let's go dance before these homoerotically inclined idiots make us miss the whole song!"

"Whoo!" shouted Keisuke exuberantly. "Major burn!"

Taka grinned at Miaka from his choke-hold on Keisuke. "Next dance, I promise, sweetheart!"

Yui tossed her head and looked back over her shoulder at the guys. "It'll be your own fault if we're carried off by a couple of gorgeous strangers!" She made sure to add an extra sway to her tightly jeaned bottom as she walked through the crowd.

Tetsuya noticed some guys checking out his girlfriend's bare back and well-shaped derriere and almost got up to follow her, before being slammed back down in his seat by Keisuke, a glass of beer thrust into his hand.

"Let the girls have their fun!" encouraged Keisuke, "And we'll have ours!"

****

Meanwhile, back at the entrance, two damp and oddly-clad strangers were trying to get into the club. The doorman squinted suspiciously at them. "Place is full. Can't let anyone else in. Fire laws." He gestured back towards the rain. "Come back later." Two fashionable couples slipped past them into the club, belying his words, but he continued to stare stolidly past the two costumed freaks.

The taller, red-haired one scowled angrily and reached for some object at his back, but his quieter companion laid a restraining hand on his arm. Damned if that freak wasn't in a get-up like some kinda Buddhist monk! Well, he didn't give a shit, they _still_ weren't getting in!

The monk approached him, then removed his face. _What?_ Oh, it was just some freaky mask. No matter--they _for sure_ weren't getting in now! No loony-bin escapees permitted in the club, unless they happened to be famous.

"But we _are_ famous." The monk's voice was gentle and persuasive, his one eye (_One eye?_ shrieked the doorman's conscious brain through some thick fog that suddenly filled his head) gleaming in the dim light. "And you're expecting us."

"Oh, of course," the doorman muttered, to his own surprise. He waved them in, but his conscious mind fought free one last time as he noticed the large forbidding object strapped to Red's back. "Hey! No weapons allowed!"

"It's not a weapon," the monk reassured him. "It's just a fan. A…" he paused, searching for the appropriate term. "A personal fashion statement, that's all it is." His red-haired companion looked outraged but kept his mouth clamped shut.

"Well, that's all right then. Go on in." The doorman shook his head as they passed. He didn't know why, but he was beginning to get a throbbing headache.

Once inside the club, the two men stopped in surprise, blinking at the level of noise slamming into their brains.

"Shit, 'Chiri, this is the loudest fucking band I've ever heard! But where the fuck are they?"

"I'm not concerned with finding the band, Tasuki. We have greater troubles."

Tasuki noted the strange looks cast in their direction. "Hey, 'Chiri, everybody's starin' at ya! Didn't ya say we hadda blend in with this world? Ya better lose the monk's outfit."

Chichiri refrained from pointing out that Tasuki's boldly cut bandit coat and flashy boots were drawing equally as many stares as his shakujou and kesa. He scanned the crowd quickly, looking for either a uniform mode of dress, or--_There!_ Sitting at a table surrounded by admiring males was a lady, immaculately groomed. She was mature, probably near Tasuki's age, but that didn't detract from her obvious appeal to the opposite sex. Although Chichiri appeared to most eyes to be a sequestered monk, he had been around enough to know that women--especially fashionable, popular women--were the best source for information on how a man should dress.

He sent his ki out, gently inquiring of her subconscious what would be the most appropriate clothing for a reserved man of thirty-four and an out-going man of twenty-seven. He blinked a few times at the mental images that were forcefully sent back in his direction. Well, he certainly didn't see anyone _here_ dressed like that, but he didn't have time to seek a second opinion. He concentrated his ki on conjuring up the appropriate garments for both himself and Tasuki, adjusting hues to suit their individual hair colors. He frowned once again, looking at Tasuki's hair--no, he would leave it alone to prevent an outraged show of temper from the bandit. However, he had to adjust his own hair and get rid of his mask while trying to keep his missing eye from appearing too startling.

All these calculations and muttered spells were performed in the space of less than twenty seconds, and Tasuki was shocked to find himself in unfamiliar, strangely-fitting garments. Opening his mouth to protest to Chichiri, he was shocked even more by his fellow seishi's altered appearance. "Shit," he complained weakly. "Never seen ya in an eyepatch before, 'Chiri."

"Let's go; we've wasted enough time already."

The two men began moving through the crowd, unaware that the beautiful lady at the table had snapped her head up as they passed by.

"Che!" she exclaimed beneath her breath. "Bellissimo!" Although she spoke perfect English, she often lapsed into her native Italian when surprised. In spite of having spent the last eight weeks in Hollywood shooting her latest movie, she had never seen anyone, not even the young hotshot actors, look quite as beautiful as those two men. And they were even wearing her favorite Italian designer clothes!

Tasuki noted that people were staring at them once more, but now the stares held admiration instead of puzzlement, especially from the female patrons of this bar. He began to preen and added a little more swagger to his walk.

Chichiri glanced over his shoulder and suppressed a smile. Although Tasuki claimed to dislike women, he was a bit of a peacock when it came to soliciting feminine attention. For that matter, they were both attracting a great deal of notice. Chichiri began to struggle through the press of people, trying to focus on Miaka's ki while gently removing a delicate hand from his coat lapel.

"Fuck!" exclaimed Tasuki, removing a manicured hand that was caressing his backside. "What the fuck is Tama thinkin,' bringin' Miaka to a place that's full of prostitutes?"

"They're not prostitutes, Tasuki. Women are just a little, er, bold in this world."

"No shit!" muttered the bandit, fending off a hand that was trying to grasp a considerably more intimate portion of his anatomy…until he caught sight of the man attached to the hand. He exploded, snatching the tessen out of its holster and pointing it at the wispy young man with tight pants and streaked and layered blond hair. "You're gonna _burn_ for that, ya fuckin' pervert!" he shrieked. "REKKAAA… mmmph!"

Chichiri clamped a hand over Tasuki's mouth and dragged him off through the crowd.

"Damn!" muttered the blond. "I was hoping that they weren't a couple!"

Meanwhile, Chichiri was trying to soothe Tasuki's considerably ruffled feathers.

"Goddammit, 'Chiri, why'd ya stop me! If we were in Konan, I woulda singed that asshole good!"

"But we're not in Konan, Tasuki, and we don't have time to indulge your temper. Try not to get so angry; after all, you never felt such aversion towards Nuriko."

"I got nothin' against okamas! But don't even _mention_ Nuriko in the same breath as that asshole! Nuriko was…_Nuriko,_ damnit! He would never even _think_ of violatin' my…" Tasuki stopped, frowning in confusion at his own terminology.

Chichiri's expression darkened, and he looked around for a distraction, fixing gratefully on a young woman balancing a tray with glasses of all sizes, each of which contained liquid of varying colors. Chichiri snatched a small glass off the tray and offered it to Tasuki. "Here, Tasuki--do you remember when you said that you wanted to try the drinks in this world? This looks like their version of sake."

The diversion was successful, and Tasuki grinned. "Yeah, that's right! We never did get to celebrate finishing off that asshole Nakago!" He threw back the shot of tequila in one swallow--then began choking. His face went as red as his hair as he gasped for relief from the burning fluid. Chichiri looked around desperately for a glass of water until he felt a strong grip on his arm. Tasuki blinked back the involuntary tears in his eyes, then drew in a deep breath. "Fuck, 'Chiri, that was some _evil_ shit in that glass!" He smirked at his companion. "Think you could get me another one?"

Chichiri laughed. "Come on!"

They continued to weave their way through the crowd, finally getting within sight of the dance floor. Tasuki squinted at the suggestive gyrations of the dancers. This was far beyond anything he had ever seen "nonprofessional" dancers do before--and he liked it.

"Hey, 'Chiri, think ya could do somethin' so that I'd know how to dance like that?"

Chichiri raised his eyebrows at the overt sexuality of some of the better dance moves, then shrugged. He breathed a brief spell, touching his fingers to Tasuki's forehead. "There. Now you know the steps--but how well you perform them is up to your intrinsic ability."

"Fuck, I ain't worried 'bout that, 'Chiri! You know me: love music, love ta dance!" He snatched another glass off another passing tray and enthusiastically tossed back the contents. This time he only choked once. "They got some fuckin' strong shit in this world! Whoo!"

Chichiri just smiled and continued making his way across the dance floor, knowing that Tasuki was trying to cover his nervousness as the moment approached when they would meet Miaka again.

Meanwhile, back at the table on the opposite end of the dance floor, Taka looked up from his beer, thinking that he heard a familiar shout. He craned his neck towards the floor in front of the DJ's booth, where he could catch occasional glimpses of Miaka and Yui enthusiastically gyrating to the music under the flashing colored lights. Yes, they seemed fine, but… He turned in the opposite direction and caught sight of a flash of flaming red hair.

"What's the matter, Taka?" Tetsuya's eyes were hidden as usual behind his Ray-bans but his voice held concern. "The girls okay?"

"Yeah, it's nothing. Just for a moment, I thought I saw somebody who looked like Tasuki." Taka laughed, mocking his own ridiculous perceptions. "That seems to happen whenever I see someone with red hair. Probably just some damn American!"

****

Miaka laughed as the song reached the end of the first chorus. She and Yui were having a great time, singing the English words and rolling their hips to the Latin rhythm. In spite of Yui's determination to make their men jealous, she and Miaka both turned modestly away from any man who attempted to join their dance. The guys seemed to get the message, so Miaka relaxed, exuberantly raising her hands above her head--only to feel them caught in an iron grip. She instinctively pulled back, but found herself spun around to face…

A sapphire blue raw silk shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, open halfway down the front to reveal a strongly muscled chest, further decorated with multiple necklaces of pukka shells, blue agate stones, and other sparkling gems. Her brain dimly registered the expensive, stylish clothes, the dull shine of the silk shirt complementing the muted sheen of the black leather pants that fitted narrow hips; not garishly skin tight, just flatteringly snug, hinting at male assets that… She flushed and forced her eyes upwards, taking in the one incongruous piece to this perfect ensemble: a pair of black leather belts that crossed the shirt like a holster--and then she knew.

It had to be him.

She looked up to see flaming red hair, grown long and looking tamer than she remembered now that it was confined in a ponytail, wisps of trailing bangs partially veiling sparkling amber eyes flecked with gold. That distinctive nose, those chiseled cheekbones and strong chin--he looked older and absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful now that he was approaching his prime.

"Tasuki!" she gasped, her brain fizzling with shock, her heart suddenly hammering so hard that she thought it might burst through her chest.

He grinned a fangy grin and spun gracefully, catching her hands once more above her head, drawing her in so that her hips rocked against his.

"Hey, Mi-chan," he growled as casually as if they had just parted ways yesterday.

Her brain continued to refuse to engage. "What…what are you doing here?"

"Dancing with you, baka girl, whaddaya think?" And he was, swiveling those hips perfectly in time to the music, his natural grace adding even more sensuality to the moves. She felt herself joining him in the rhythm, but forced her mind back to reality.

"I mean, how did you get here?"

He nodded at someone behind her. "Caught a lift with Chichiri, what else?"

Miaka twisted her neck to catch a glimpse of another old friend--and nearly stumbled in shock. She had never seen Chichiri looking so_ hot!_ He was clad in a dark grey Armani suit, the elegant coat draping his figure while emphasizing broad shoulders that were usually concealed beneath his kesa. Beneath the coat he wore a silvery-grey silk shirt with a band collar. And his features! He was definitely in his prime, his features strong yet refined, his silvery-blue bangs sweeping low over one eye instead of reaching skyward, his scar and missing eye camouflaged by a discreet silver eyepatch. He looked sophisticated and worldly and oh-so-sexual--and Yui wore a look of stunned disbelief, caught in his arms as he danced with her in the subtle but devastatingly erotic Cuban style. He flipped Yui around so that her back was against his body as he swayed, and Yui looked as if she had been transported to one of the seven circles of Nirvana.

Miaka choked. "Whoa, Chichiri!" she gasped.

Yui, wide-eyed, shook her hand in the signal for "hot!" and mouthed _Whoa, Chichiri!_ back at her. Chichiri smiled at Miaka warmly.

"Hey!" protested a jealous voice. "Quit ogling Chichiri! Don't forget that _I'm_ your opponent; I mean, dance partner!" Tasuki spun Miaka around to face him just as the second chorus began.

By the gods, the man could dance! Miaka had never before danced with anyone so overtly sexual. He pulled her in and pushed her back, then bent her in a deep dip and pumped his hips above her. She knew that the other people on the floor were beginning to take notice of his flamboyant style and wildly fashionable clothes--but she didn't care. She felt caught up in a rush of exhilaration just at the sensation of being in his arms again--_Again? _whispered a tiny portion of her brain--and she didn't care who was watching or what they were thinking. He was back, and she had missed him so _much!_

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Chichiri and Yui were causing an equal stir with their elegant but equally sexy manner of dancing. Although Chichiri kept his hands just on Yui's hand and waist, the subtle thrust of his hips gave their dance an erotic sizzle, creating an aura of sexual tension that you could cut with a knife.

Suddenly, Miaka's attention was diverted from her friends as Tasuki released her hands and began to sink down before her, keeping his hips swiveling rhythmically as he traced the outline of her curvy figure with the backs of his fingers. Caught up in the moment, Miaka lifted her heavy mane of hair above her head, arching her back and swiveling her own hips as she accepted his apparent adulation. There was a murmur of admiration from the dance floor observers at the sensuality and athleticism of their moves. Tasuki rose up quickly and caught her hands, placing them on her hips and turning her so that her back was pressed against him. She felt the hard muscles of his thighs pressing against her flanks as they rocked their hips in a rhythmic thrust--and she was lost. She lost all sense of where she was; the music, the flashing lights, and the crowd all seemed to fade away. There was only she and he, a woman and a man reunited at last in physical pleasure. She caught the warm sandalwood scent of his heated skin and tilted her head back so that her hair brushed sensuously across his chest. He bent his head towards her neck and sighed in pleasure, his warm breath tickling her ear, arousing her…and something in her told her that she had finally come home.

But as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, the pleasurable pressure of his thighs withdrawn from her back. She nearly cried out in disappointment, until she looked up and registered the furious features of her husband. Taka had caught Tasuki's arm and spun him away from her, but Tasuki seemed oblivious to Taka's state of mind.

"Hey, Tamaaaaa!" he cried out in real pleasure as he danced with the new arrival in their group. "Whoo! I was wonderin' where the fuck you were!"

Taka snarled at his brother seishi. "Swivel those hips at me one more time, and you're a dead man!"

Tasuki continued to dance around Taka, frowning as he picked up the hostility in the other man's tones. "What the fuck didja come out here for, if ya didn't wanna dance with us?"

"I came out here to tell you to take your sleazy hands off my--" Suddenly Taka reached out and seized the wildly gyrating seishi by his crossed belts. "Would you quit dancing with me? You're making us look gay!"

Tasuki's hair-trigger temper was finally provoked, and he stopped dancing immediately, knocking Taka's hands away from the tessen holster. "What the fuck's the matter with you? We haven't seen each other in eight years, and all you can do is act like an asshole!"

"It's only been five years--and _you're_ the one acting like an asshole! Not five minutes back here, and you've got your hands all over Miaka, your goddamn yoku symbol lighting up the whole damn room! Don't think that I don't know what that means!"

Tasuki flushed, along with Miaka behind them.

"Taka, please," she pleaded, trying to avert the oncoming brawl. "It was all my fault--"

"No, it wasn't! Quit taking the blame, Mi-chan. It was this asshole's fault for leaving you alone and unprotected out here; he's just lucky it was me, and not some pervert coming up to you!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, the last time I looked, it looked like some _pervert_ to me!"

"Fuck you, asshole! Maybe you didn't miss _me_ over the past few years, but from the way you're talkin', I'm guessin' that you missed the tessen!" Tasuki reached behind his back for the fan. "But don't worry, 'cause in the next few seconds, you're gonna feel the heat!"

A thrill of excitement coursed through the crowd at the imminent fight, but at that critical moment, a strong arm seized Tasuki, pulling him back.

Chichiri shoved Tasuki roughly in Yui's direction. "Here! Dance with Yui, Tasuki--and that's not a request!" His mahogany eye blazed with intimidating anger. "And you, Taka--settle down and dance with Miaka! I don't want to see either one of you starting up any brawls, or you're going to get all of us thrown out of here!" He nodded at the burly forms of the club bouncers, who were moving in on the dance floor to break up any potential fights.

In spite of the fact that it had been several years since he last saw Chichiri, Taka automatically yielded to the seishi he respected as a father/older brother figure. He caught Miaka's hands and turned his back on Tasuki, contenting himself with only a dirty look over his shoulder. Tasuki seemed much more combative but was also forced to yield to Chichiri's firm control of the situation.

Chichiri sighed in relief and prepared to leave the dance floor, only to find himself confronted by a wispy young woman, her lovely slanted eyes proclaiming her mixed race, her dark hair in crimped-style waves that reached to the tops of her shoulders. She was clad in a skintight black top that appeared to be held up by a single swath of material at one shoulder, while her narrow hips were encased in a pair of flat-fronted cream silk trousers. Something about her eyes and smile reminded Chichiri irresistibly of Josselin, although this girl was considerably younger and thinner. All the same, he paused for a moment, caught up in memories.

"Uh-uh." The girl shook her head at him. "I've waited long enough to dance with you; you're not getting away from me now!" Grasping his hand, she led him back onto the crowded dance floor. "Now do that sexy swivel-hip thing with me!" she commanded, and he obeyed numbly, unable to keep from staring at her oddly familiar features.

Meanwhile, Tasuki continued to complain about his ill-treatment at Taka's hands. "Fuckin' bastard," he grumbled dancing smoothly yet perfunctorily with Yui. "First time we've seen each other in years, an' all he can do is pick a fight! Ya think he'd say, Hey, man, great ta see ya, but _no_--gotta be an asshole all th' time!"

Yui refrained from pointing out that Tasuki had provoked Taka's anger with his overtly sexual dancing with Miaka. She knew that she would only turn the redhead's temper on herself, not to mention that she could sense that he was truly hurt by Taka's apparent coldness towards him.

"Tasuki," she murmured, placing a comforting hand on his arm. It suddenly struck her as strange that she should address him so familiarly when they had never before spoken with one another. In fact, she had never been up close to him before, having only glimpsed his signature red hair on battlegrounds, whether in the Kutou Imperial palace grounds, on the battlefields of Konan, or on that mountain where they had confronted Tenkou. She probably felt so familiar with him because Miaka had spoken warmly and at length about all of her seishi, making Yui feel as if she knew them, too. "Listen, why don't we sit down? I can tell that you're not really in the mood to dance anymore, and I…"

Suddenly the amber eyes turned and focused on her, and Yui felt the full force of his fiery gaze. "So that's what Miaka--" she thought weakly, before she was overcome by the charm of his fangy grin.

"Hey! Here I am with one of the two most beautiful women in this whole place, and ya think that I'm gonna sit this dance out? You can forget that, Priestess! Let's show 'em how hot it can get when Suzaku mixes it up with Seiryuu!"

With that, he pulled her body into his, scattering Yui's thought that for a bandit who claimed to hate women, he certainly knew how to flatter them! He bent her in a deep dip, leaning over her suggestively, then popped her back up with a quick pull on the small of her back, causing her head to snap up towards him in the best flamenco style. Yui knew that Tasuki was showing off for the sake of nabbing Miaka's attention while at the same time showing up Taka's considerably more conservative style of dancing--but she didn't care! It felt so good to have a man completely dominate her on the dance floor, pushing her body wherever he wanted her to go. Being dominated wasn't what she wanted in real life, but…it was almost incredibly arousing to have a man take such a strong lead. She knew that they looked hot together, and she tossed all her inhibitions out the window.

The song was playing through the third and final chorus, the pulsing bass beat driving their movements harder. Tasuki took Yui's hands and placed them on his sweat-glistened chest, then moved them downward until he had her grasping his hips. She held the butter-soft leather as he swiveled and pumped at her--and some demon of mischief made her bend her knees, sinking down on her heels before him, the wild suggestiveness of her pose causing many other dancers to gasp in both outrage and delight. He pulled her up and drew her body tightly against his--gods, the man was so tall, even taller than Tetsuya--then spun her around so that her derriere rested snugly against his pelvis. He pumped his body at her at her in slow, swiveling thrusts, while she wildly shook her behind at blurringly fast speed. The crowd began to shout and whistle.

Miaka couldn't help looking over at them, even though she was trying to keep her attention on Taka--and her face flushed red at their moves. For the first time in years, she wasinfuriatedwith her best friend, her thoughts jumbled and angry. 'What is Yui _doing_, acting like such a…! She knows damn well that he's mine!' At that point, her thought--and her feet--stumbled, and Taka was forced to catch her with a supporting arm. He frowned at her obvious distraction.

But Miaka wasn't the only one infuriated at the antics of the Suzaku-Seiryuu couple. With the instincts of a warrior, Tasuki spun away from Yui and ducked out of the path of Tetsuya's fist. He snatched the Ray-bans out of Tetsuya's grip and put them on, dancing easily out of Tetsuya's enraged reach. Tetsuya was forced to stay with Yui, muttering about red-headed perverts, while Tasuki moved easily and gracefully through the crowd, spinning and dipping any female that caught his shaded gaze. Finally he fixed the Ray-bans on the one figure he was looking for, and he pulled the Armani-clad form of Chichiri away from yet another partner, this time a blue-jeaned woman with short dark hair who was also fascinating the magician with her strong resemblance to Joss.

"C'mon, 'Chiri, let's go get our girls!" He pulled Chichiri after him, ignoring the angry growl of the magician's dance partner.

"Dammit, Flame-boy, ya did it to me again!" she complained to the now vacant space where Chichiri had been just a second earlier.

The two men wove through the crowd, catching sight of Miaka and Yui--then, with the combined talents of seishi speed and mystical transmigration, cut neatly in on both Taka and Tetsuya, seizing the girls and dropping them in a deep dip just at the last blasting note of the song.

Tetsuya and Taka, now partnerless, stood facing each other as if they had been dancing with one another. Both young men had the same thought.

"Grrrrrrrrr!"

****

****

Glossary of Terms:

Bellissimo! - (Italian) Beautiful! ( male form)

Hai! - (Japanese) Yes!

Hombres y damas - (Spanish) Gentlemen and ladies

****

Author's note: (4-16-03) Okay, lots of apologies and explanations in order.

First of all, I'm sorry for that rather abrupt ending to this chapter. This chapter lacks my usual "story arc" form for a very good reason: this is only the _first_ half of my original Chapter 4. But that dang thing kept growing and _growing;_ right now, unfinished, it's already at an unwieldy 12,000 words, and that's just too damn much for one chapter! I was really torn between finishing the Tokyo segment in one lengthy arc and dumping a giant encyclopedia-sized chapter on my faithful friends - or having mercy on you poor people (especially Shadow Priestess, who has to jockey for computer time) and cutting it in half. So I decided to compromise. Because the "next" chapter--Chapter 5--is really the second half of this chapter, I'm going to post it right away on Friday instead of waiting another week. I wanted to post something on Friday, anyway, since that is the birthday of A Very Special Someone!

My next apologies go to all my friends who have e-mailed me or reviewed me and received only discourteous silence; I'm sorry, but I'm just swamped with work and trying to kick out these recent chapters of "Hidden Paths." I will get back to everyone, hopefully sometime in May…sigh. Hopefully.

Finally, very _big _thank you's to Kryssa, for taking me to a Latin Dance club so that I could "set the scene" and to Aikido-chan, for indulging in lengthy discussions with me on how "Hollywood" and "on the edge" I could dress Tasuki and Chichiri without making them look effeminate--the sapphire hue of Tasuki's raw silk shirt was her idea--and also a big thanks to GQ for their always spot-on fashion advice. By the way, Miaka is dressed in current Tokyo club fashions-- the layered look is very in--whereas Yui and the guys are dressed more in the American style, while my two favorite seishi are dressed in either the Hollywood or continental European fashion, whichever you choose to call it.

Chichiri in Armani - to die for, ne? Special note to Kris and CG: how do you like his dance partners?

One last warning: this was the "up" portion of the roller coaster - the next big drop happens on Friday! See ya then!

Ja ne!

Roku


	5. The breaking storm

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them. 

However, the plotline for this story, as well as all original characters, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

*******************************************************************************************************************

Chapter 5.    The Breaking Storm

The atmosphere at the table was finally becoming somewhat less strained. Tasuki had casually returned the Ray-bans to Tetsuya with a fangy grin and a cheerful "Thanks, man!" that forced Tetsuya to be polite or appear like a jealous clod. Keisuke had been overjoyed to finally meet up in person with the remaining two seishi and plied them with beer, all the while chattering happily about their adventures in the ShiJin. Yui couldn't help but be pleased about rousing Tetsuya's possessive instincts at last, and she was subsequently very cheerful and outgoing. The only quiet ones were Miaka, who seemed to find her own hands fascinating, and Taka, who was caught between bristling with resentment at Tasuki - and a genuine eagerness to share his and Miaka's good news with their old friends.

Tasuki finally grew tired of the furtive glances that Taka kept sending in his direction. "All right, Tama - you still got a bug up your ass with me?! 'Cause if ya do, let's just take this outside, no tessen and no nunchucks! We'll just settle this like men, just so you can quit sittin' there like some goddamn broody hen!"

Miaka went pale at the thought of the two men brawling, but suddenly, unexpectedly, Taka grinned, cuffing Tasuki affectionately. "Nah, you asshole, I don't have a problem with you anymore. In fact, I don't have a problem with _anybody_ anymore - Miaka and I have some great news to share with both of you!"

Chichiri leaned forward, unobtrusively blocking Tasuki and Taka from each other's line of sight. "Oh, yes?" he queried in his gentle, pleasant voice.

Taka's voice was bursting with pride. "Miaka and I just got married two weeks ago!"

Keisuke and Tetsuya raised their beers and cheered, while Chichiri made exclamations of surprise and delight. Yui looked down and noticed Tasuki's hand holding his glass in a white-knuckled grip. She looked up quickly just in time to catch his amber gaze turning away, dark with pain. "So he really _does_ love her!" she thought in wonder. Miaka kept her own eyes downcast, her cheeks flushed, as she wondered why she couldn't bring herself to meet Tasuki's eyes.

But Tasuki recovered quickly, raising his glass in salute with the others. "About damn time!" His voice was curiously husky. "But ya didn't invite us to the wedding, Tama!"

"How was I supposed to do that? It's not like you two have been dropping in on us every few weeks!"

"Speaking of which…" Chichiri tried to bring the conversation around to their reason for crossing over. 

Meanwhile, Tasuki sent a veiled glance at Miaka, now that Taka had finally stopped sending suspicious glances in his direction. The lamps were dim, but he could still make out her features - her face thinner now that she had lost the rounded cheeks of youth, her cheekbones sharper and defined, her lips appearing full and sensuous. She kept her gaze down for some reason, her long dark brown lashes veiling the emerald brilliance of her eyes, her auburn hair framing her face with rich russet waves. She had far surpassed the promise of her former cuteness, developing into a beautiful woman - a beautiful woman who would never be his. He forced back the bittersweet sorrow and addressed Miaka in an undertone. "Congratulations, Mi-chan…"

She finally raised her eyes to his. What was she afraid that she would see in his eyes? Reproach? Accusation? Betrayal? Instead, she saw only a surprisingly gentle expression in their amber depths - accompanied by a sad, crooked smile. And somehow that was worse, making her heart clench oddly and a lump rise in her throat. "Thanks, Tasuki…" she choked, all the time wondering why she felt this way. It wasn't as if they ever… Maybe it was the fact that she was finally adult enough to realize what his declaration of love had meant all those years ago - and she didn't want to cause him more pain. But surely he had gotten over her by now - didn't he say that it had been eight years in his timeline? Maybe he was even married himself! But - why did that thought send an accompanying stab of pain through _her_ heart?! No. No, it would be _wonderful_ if he were married - wonderful for him, and to prove that she _really_ felt that way, she blurted out the question.

"Are _you_ married, Tasuki?"

His eyes went wide in shock… and the table exploded in laughter. Taka was laughing so hard that he was practically crying. Even Tetsuya and Keisuke were holding their sides in hysterical glee, while Chichiri just smiled his mysterious catlike smile. But Yui caught Tasuki's one unguarded look at Miaka, his eyes seeming to say, "How could you _think_ that?!" "Faithful, too…" mused Yui, intrigued by the subliminal messages flying back and forth between the bandit and his miko.

Once again, Tasuki recovered before the other men noticed. "Nah, Mi-chan… the right girl…" he paused, pulling in the attention of the guys with his usual dramatic flair, "The _right_ girl… ain't been fast enough ta catch me yet!" He smirked in triumph, as the guys roared with laughter once again.

Finally, the laughter died down - and Chichiri seized the chance offered by the brief lull to bring up the reason for his and Tasuki's sudden appearance. "Taka, Miaka… and everyone… I wish that Tasuki and I had come here only for a social call, but…"

Taka interrupted, his grey eyes suddenly serious. "I suspected that there was trouble in the ShiJin as soon as I saw you, Chichiri - so don't hold back. Tell us what we can do to help Konan."

Tetsuya frowned. "Is this Suzaku business? Do you want me and Yui and Keisuke to leave?" 

"No." Everyone looked up startled at the dark and serious voice that had suddenly chimed in - and were shocked to see that it was Tasuki. "This isn't just trouble for Konan - and it isn't confined to only our world, either." The bandit accent was markedly absent in this grim, adult voice - and Taka suddenly became acutely aware that Tasuki was now several years older than him - several years spent living the harsh life of a warrior.

"Tasuki's right. We need all of you in on this." Chichiri's voice was equally serious but held a reassuring note. "And you and Keisuke are practically honorary seishi, Tetsuya - not to mention the principal protectors of the Seiryuu no Miko." 

"Honorary seishi!" mouthed Keisuke in delight - but Tetsuya had picked up on a phrase that sent a thrill of fear down his spine. "What do you mean - protectors of the Seiryuu no Miko?! Is Yui in danger?!"

"Yes." The issue was now deadly serious, and Chichiri didn't try to soften the blow. "And Miaka and Tamahome and anyone else this enemy decides to target in its unfathomable purpose."

He went on to explain what little they knew of these strange beasts that were attacking the young celestial warriors in every country of the ShiJinTenChiSho. Tears rose in Miaka's and Yui's eyes as they heard of the ravages of Kutou - although Yui had no love for Nakago or his ambitions, she couldn't help but feel compassion for the country whose Priestess she was. Finally Chichiri told them, in a pained, halting voice, of how they had found out that the next place targeted was the adjacent world of modern Tokyo.

"Damn!" exploded Tetsuya. "Will they never leave us in peace?! Can't we be left alone to live out our lives as ordinary people?!"

"Not as long as you choose to associate with the Suzaku - or the _Seiryuu_ - no Miko." Yui's voice was cold.

"I didn't mean it that way, Yui!" Tetsuya barked back at her. Chichiri held up a hand to cut off the impending lovers' quarrel.

"What's important now isn't _why_ this is happening - what's important is what we need to do about it." Taka was direct and to-the-point as usual… and from habit, he met Tasuki's gaze, the two seishi connecting in that familiar bond of years past. Whenever there was trouble, Tamahome and Tasuki had always instinctively stood together - and something in Miaka thrilled to see the two men standing side-by-side and battle-ready again. "So what do you want us to do, Chichiri?"

"There is so much that we don't know - but my best guess is that the Enemy will try to cross over to this world through an already existing portal or link…"

"The Universe of the Four Gods!" gasped Keisuke.

"Yes. We must get hold of and secure that book - do you know where it is?"

"We left it in the National Library." Miaka sounded apologetic. "It went back there on its own, after that first battle with Tenkou - and it… felt right to leave it where it wanted to be."

"You did the right thing, Miaka." Chichiri smiled reassuringly at her. "After all, it's been safe for the last five years. Unfortunately, recent events now threaten that safety, and we need to lay our hands on it as soon as we can."

"Well, the Library is closed until tomorrow morning, so we can't get it tonight." Keisuke, too, had become practical and clear-headed now that the situation was unfolding before them. "But you two are welcome to crash with me, and we'll run by and pick it up as soon as the Library opens."

Tasuki and Chichiri exchanged troubled glances. They were still possessed by that nagging feeling of urgency - but things worked differently in Miaka's world than in theirs, and they hardly use their status as seishi to barge into national institutions in the middle of the night and demand the surrender of works of literature by Imperial command.

"So that's settled!" Keisuke declared in satisfaction, taking the older seishi's silence as acquiescence. "Since we can't do anything tonight - let's get some more beer! Come on, Tetsuya!" 

Tasuki shrugged and suddenly got up from the table, his movements so quick that he almost seemed to have flashed from his seat to Taka's side in the blink of an eye. "Let's go, Tama - I owe you a drink ta celebrate your good news!"

Tetsuya sent an uncertain glance at Chichiri's elegant figure seated at the table with the two ladies - but decided that since the magician didn't seem to be making any overt moves on Yui, it was all right to leave him alone with them. And wasn't he supposed to be a monk, anyway?!

Chichiri smiled as Tetsuya turned away, reading the young man's thoughts perfectly. Well, it appeared that they had done all they could do for tonight - so he might as well possess himself with patience. At that moment, both his arms were seized, and he looked up startled into the smiling features of the two half-Asian girls who had been dancing with him previously. "Time for another dance!" crowed one. "Yep, sweetness - let's go cut a rug!" chimed in the other one. Chichiri sent an appealing glance towards Yui and Miaka, but they just laughed, allowing him to be hijacked out to the dance floor.

"Do you think that we should rescue him?" Miaka asked, soft-hearted as always. 

"No," Yui's glance took in Chichiri as he moved gracefully between the two girls. "It doesn't seem that he's suffering that much. In fact, I'd say he's having such a good time that he's in danger of violating his monastic vows!"

"Well, remember, Yui, he's a monk of Suzaku, not Buddha, so it's hard to tell what exactly those vows encompass."

"Obviously they allow for the wearing of Italian designer suits. So much for the vow of poverty! Where do you suppose he got the Armani, anyway? Not to mention the Gucci shoes on both of them!"

"My suspicion is that it's a Suzaku knock-off." Miaka was beginning to enjoy herself at last. "Just like Tasuki's Cavalli shirt and leather pants."

"So you noticed those, did you?"

"_I_ noticed that you noticed those _yourself_, Yui! I even noticed that you tried to feel out the quality of the leather without using your hands!"

"Whoo!" Yui was thoroughly enjoying Miaka's pointed barbs. "Tell you what, let's take this bitch-fight into the ladies' room, so that we won't be interrupted! I'm having too much fun tonight!"

"You've got a deal!" Miaka was grinning widely. "Nothing like a good gossip about one's seishi. We could have had such a good time together in the ShiJin if only we were on speaking terms during that time!"

"Yes, but my seishi were nowhere near as hot as yours! Unfair, I call it!"

"Oh, I don't know. I thought that Ashitare had… possibilities…"

"That's _it!_" shrieked Yui, chasing Miaka towards the restrooms in mock anger. The two girls giggled wildly, not realizing that their giddiness after the earlier grim news was a typical reaction of soldiers who found themselves in the trenches once again.

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A few minutes later, Tasuki was seated back at the table with the guys, tapping his foot nervously against his chair. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer. "Hey, Tama - where're the latrines in this place? Out which doorway?"

Taka was absorbed in a discussion with the other two about the best way to get into the rare books section of the library, so he looked up briefly, sparing Tasuki very little of his attention. "Not outside - _inside,_ Tasuki! Over there, where those girls are headed…"

Tasuki stared surprised at the small hallway that two young women disappeared into. "Both guys and girls?!"

"Mm-hm." Taka was still paying no attention, so Tasuki got up and followed the path of the girls. 

He stopped to watch them push through a swinging door - then shrugged. "Strange world…" he thought, and walked boldly into the ladies' room. He took in the stalls lining one wall. "Oh! That's why it's okay for both guys and girls ta use the same place - they got privacy in those little rooms!" 

There was a moment of stunned silence from the females clustered around the mirror and the sinks - and Tasuki took advantage of the lull to flash his most winning smile. "Hey, can any of you charmin' ladies tell me how to undo these weird fasteners on these trousers?"

The room exploded in pandemonium, some girls shrieking in outrage while others rushed at Tasuki to help him out in any way he wanted. He found himself buffeted back and forth, half the girls trying to shove him out of the room while the other half snatched at his shirt and belts, trying to drag him back in. He didn't know where to put his hands for fear of accidentally striking one of the women. "Fuck!" he screamed in frustration, which many of the females took as an invitation. Finally, salvation appeared in the form of a familiar russet head and blond head, and they seized his arms, escorting him firmly to the door and knocking away any interfering female hands. "Back off, ladies - he's ours!" shouted Yui. "American grad student - he just got lost!" 

There was a chorus of disappointed grumbles from many of the women, but they backed off as ordered. As soon as he saw his way clear, Tasuki shot out of the door and leaned against the corridor wall, panting. His belts were twisted and his shirt was hanging half-out of his trousers. "And they fuckin' ask me why I hate women!" he groused, thoroughly pissed off. Yui kept control. "Miaka - go back to the table and get Taka to take Tasuki to the men's room!" Miaka, blushing, did as ordered.

Taka appeared shortly afterwards to take custody of Tasuki, grumbling as they headed towards the men's room. "How the hell did you end up in the ladies' room, you asshole?!"

Tasuki was infuriated. "That's where you told me to go, ya fuckin' idiot! 'Follow the girls, Tasuki! Yeah, both guys and girls over there!' I shoulda _known_ that you were settin' me up!"

"I didn't mean to set you up, Tasuki." Taka looked away guiltily, realizing how his careless words were misinterpreted. "I guess that I just forgot that you're not familiar with this world." 

"I'll tell ya somethin' else I'm not familiar with!" Tasuki began to tug at the fly of his trousers as they entered the men's room. "How the fuck do ya take a piss when your goddamn pants are sealed closed with this fuckin' metal seam?!"

"No, don't try to pull it apart, Tasuki - oh, _shit!!_ Now you've done it! You've pulled the track apart above and below the zipper!"

"What does that mean?!"

"It means that you can't unfasten your pants, you asshole!"

"Oh, gods, Tama, I really gotta go! What the fuck am I gonna do?!"

"Just try to push them down."

"Can't - the fuckin' things are too tight!"

"Well, what the hell were you thinking when you chose them in the first place?!"

"I _didn't_ choose 'em - Chichiri dressed me!"

Silence.

"Okay, that's waaaaaay more than I wanted to know about the relationship between you and Chichiri…"

"Shut up, you fuckin' asshole! You know goddamn well that I was talkin' 'bout one of his spells!"

"Oh. I just thought that it must get pretty lonely out there, wandering around, just the two of you…"

"Are ya gonna help me, or are ya just gonna stand there pissin' me off?!!"

"In a minute, you're not going to need my help to get pissed off!"

"This is just one great big joke to ya, ain't it ?! While I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna dooooooooo!!"

Taka finally yielded to his brother seishi's desperate wail. "All right, I'll try to work on the zipper - but come here into the stall. I don't want anybody walking in on us like this!"

Tasuki followed him obediently into one of the "little rooms."

  
"Hey, what's that round thing with the water?"

"Never mind - just stand still!"

At that moment, a small weasel-like young man wearing an ID tag that was inscribed "Assistant Manager" walked into the men's room. Turning to one of the urinals, he suddenly became aware that he wasn't alone in the place. There was someone - no, _two_ someones!! - in one of the stalls. He pushed his lank, greasy hair out of his eyes so that he could see more clearly - yes, there was one pair of ordinary brogues facing a pair of fancy Gucci boots.

"Ya don't hafta be so goddam rude! I just never saw one of those before!"

"Well, I don't have time to explain it to you now! Just shut up and hold still while I try to work on this … ouch!"

"What?!"

"You moved! And I pinched my finger! Now either you want me to do this or you don't - make up your mind, Tasuki!"

"C'mon, Tama, ya know that I'm dyin' here! Don't make me beg!"

"Fine! Then do what I tell you! There isn't much room in here, so back up against the door. And STAY STILL! You've already made a goddamn mess of things!"

"Look, I'm doin' the best that I can! But ya know fuckin' well that I've never done this before…"

The assistant manager stood transfixed in place, the urinal forgotten. This was shocking! This was _scandalous!_ He really should stop listening, and get some help to put a stop to this, but…

The sound of panting. "Grrrrrrrr, damnit! I thought I almost got it that time!" 

An accompanying groan. "Why'd you _stop_, Tama?!"

"Sweat got in my eyes…"

The groan became more frenzied. "Tama, ya gotta _hurry!!_ I can't wait much longer! Here, maybe I can help ya…"

The sound of a slap. "Keep your hands out of the way! You're only going to fuck things up worse!"

"Ooh, he's a mean one," thought the assistant manager.

A sudden growl, intensifying by the second. "Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr… almost… _al-most_… GOT IT!!"

A simultaneous shriek, skittering up to the highest registers attainable by the human male_. "You did that on PURPOSE!!"_

A gout of flame suddenly burst from the top of the stall. The assistant manager shrieked and bolted out of the men's room. The club patrons, including Miaka and Yui, looked up as he ran past in a panic. Yui sent a keen gaze towards the restroom area, where she could see a cloud of smoke billowing out from the men's room, accompanied by a barrage of curses. She sighed.  
  


"Tetsuya, Keisuke… you'd better go in there and break it up between those two."

Keisuke hesitated. "But… but…"

"Remember, Keisuke - you're an honorary seishi now, right?"

"But where's Chichiri?"

"Still dancing, so you're all we've got - get over there NOW!"  
  


The two men squared their shoulders and marched bravely towards the horror that awaited them in the men's room. Yui looked over to Miaka, whose green eyes were wide with dismay. "I take back what I said about things being unfair, Miaka. My seishi may not have been as hot as yours - but they were a hell of a lot less trouble!"

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Keisuke slowly and nervously pushed open the door to the men's room… it seemed quiet enough in there, only the soft susurration of running water greeting his ears. Tetsuya grew tired of Keisuke's hesitation and pushed past him abruptly to see… Tasuki, smiling pleasantly at them as he washed his hands. He looked a little singed around the edges but appeared to be in a fairly good mood as he struggled with the towel dispenser. Taka, however, equally singed-looking, was sitting on the floor with one knee drawn up, scowling fiercely.

"Ummmm… what's up, guys? We were, ummm, getting a little worried when you took so long…"

Taka was still in a major sulk, so Tasuki answered for both of them. "Yeah, we had a little trouble with a, whaddaya call it again, Tama?"

"Zipper." Taka's voice was low and sullen.

"Yeah, that's it. And then… well, there was an accident with the tessen…"

"Accident!" snarled Taka.

"Well, ya didn't hear me say the spell, didja? Sometimes it just goes off like that, 'specially if I get hurt. And I got just as singed as you did!"

Taka finally pushed to his feet, striding angrily over to Tasuki. "Maybe _you're_ used to getting your eyebrows crisped, but I'm _not!_ And that's the last time I try to help you out with anything ever _again!"_

Surprisingly, Tasuki didn't respond with his usual combativeness. "Hey, man, thanks one hell of a lot for bailin' me out there - you really saved my life! I owe ya one, ya know!"

Taka just stood and stared - then threw his hands up in the air. "Gah! You always have to get the last word in, don't you?!"

Keisuke and Tetsuya stared at Taka's childish display of temper, but Tasuki just smiled indulgently. "Don't mind him - ya know that he flies off the handle pretty quick, but he don't mean nothin' by it. Hey, let's get outta here, guys!"

"Errr, wait, Tasuki." Keisuke pointed. "You left your fly unzipped…"

Suddenly the good-natured grin left Tasuki's face, and he scowled. "Nah, I ain't fuckin' around with that goddamn thing again! First it wouldn't open, then it nearly castrated me! I ain't playin' that shit no more!"

Tetsuya strove for the voice of reason. "But you can't go out in public like that, Tasuki - people will stare. It's not decent…"

"I'll tell ya what's not decent - a fuckin' metal torture device installed on guy's pants, _that's_ what's not decent! I already donated enough flesh to that thing's goddamn metal teeth!"

Keisuke looked helplessly over at Taka, but his brother-in-law just made an abrupt gesture indicating that he was finished with the situation. Tetsuya also shrugged in resignation. Keisuke made one last attempt.  
  
"Tasuki, you've got to understand…"

"Hmph!"  
  
Keisuke sent one more appealing glance at the other two men but received no response. "All right, then… since Taka and Tetsuya don't seem to care, Tasuki, I'll just walk back to the table with you with your trousers hanging open, okay? When we rejoin Yui and Miaka, I'm sure that they'll be interested to hear of your misadventures with the zipper…"

"Now wait one damn minute here!" Taka finally woke to the implications of that action.

Tetsuya also got back in the argument. "Look, Tasuki, you can't do that!"

"Hey, ya think that I'm some kinda idiot?! I ain't gonna leave my trousers open - I'll _hold_ 'em closed."

"Oh, yeah, that will look really good, Tasuki - until you forget and pick up a drink or something." Keisuke was beginning to enjoy himself, happily twisting the knife into his two best friends.

"Look, Tasuki," Tetsuya tried his reasonable voice again. "We wear zippers every day and manage not to hurt ourselves. All we have to do is teach you, and then you won't have to be afraid of it. Come on - Taka tells us that you're a pretty smart guy, so you should get the hang of this in no time."

"You said that about me, Tama?"

Taka struggled to suppress a stinging denial - and won. "Yeah - sure I did, Tasuki."

"Well, all right then…" Tasuki still sounded doubtful.

Keisuke started out the lesson, breaking down the steps as if he were teaching computer programming. "The first thing you have to do, Tasuki, is protect the goods. You pull your shirt over the stuff and tuck it back."

Tetsuya joined in with the same troubleshooting attitude. "The next step is to place your hand protectively in that area and just _start_ to pull the zipper up - not far, because it won't close over your hand - just until you get past the... danger point."

Tasuki tried these actions, then looked over at Taka uncertainly.

"Oh, all right!" Taka unzipped and demonstrated for his wary friend. "See? Nothing to it."

"Here, watch!" Keisuke and Tetsuya were getting enthusiastic, demonstrating with their own zippers. "Up - down! Up - down!"  
  


Just at that critical moment, the assistant manager burst back into the men's room, four burly bouncers in tow. He shrieked at the sight of the four men facing in a circle with their hands in their pants. "My _God_, it's an _orgy!!"_

*******************************************************************************************************************

Yui sighed, picking her way carefully down the rain-slicked steps of the club. Her high heels slipped slightly, but a strong hand caught her elbow. "Thanks, Chichiri."

"No problem, no da."

Miaka smiled briefly at the familiar "no da" before reverting to her worried expression. "I hope that they didn't get hurt!"

"Don't worry, Miaka, no da. Tamahome and Tasuki have faced much worse than this before."

Yui cut in. "And after all, Tetsuya and Keisuke are _honorary seishi_ now, aren't they?!" Her words were dripping with sarcasm.

Chichiri shook his head, his one eye gleaming with mischief. "One _needs_ to have the constitution of a seishi to keep company with Tasuki! If you think that _this_ situation is bad, you haven't heard the stories _I_ could tell!"

"What stories, Chichiri?!" Miaka's voice was high and cheerful, as once again the magician was able to raise her spirits.

"No, you would have to get me _very drunk_ to reveal some of the situations he ended up embroiling us in. I will only say that I hope never again to share sleeping quarters with a blind and paranoid swordsman, a one-legged harlot of extremely advanced years, and a confused and very angry bull!" 

That was too much for the girls, who collapsed into giggles. They held onto one another as they picked their way around the debris at the entrance to the alley behind the club.

Meanwhile, deep at the other end of the alleyway, four men were recovering after being forcibly ejected from the back door of the club.

"And the horse you rode in on!" Tasuki flung at the slamming door.

Keisuke huddled in a disconsolate heap on the ground. "I can't believe it! We just got tossed out of one of the classiest clubs in the city for performing deviant acts in the men's room! I'll never be able to hold my head up in public agaaaaaaaain!"

Tetsuya pushed to his feet, angrily brushing debris off his jeans. "Worse than that, one of the bouncers was our friend with the PC-controlled home. If this gets around to our other clients…!"

"Oh, _gods!"_ Keisuke was wailing. "We're ruined!!"

"Hey, don't get so upset, Keisuke." Tasuki was blithely cheerful. "If ya think that asshole's gonna give ya any grief, I'll just have a little talk with him, just me and the tessen…"

"No!!!" shrieked both young computer specialists.

Taka sat on the ground with his knees drawn up, hiding his face in his folded arms as he uttered strangled sounds. Tasuki walked over and gave his brother seishi a comforting pat. "Hey, Tama, this ain't so bad. I get tossed outta better places than this all th' time! At least they ain't throwin' chamber pots after us!"

At that, Taka finally lost it, grabbing onto Tasuki and roaring with laughter. He pounded hysterically on his brother seishi's back, gasping for air. "You. Are. Such. A. Complete. _Asshole!!_ I gotta tell you, Tasuki - my life is never HALF as interesting when you're not around! Only you can get me into these situations... only _you!!"_ He howled until the tears ran down his face. Even Keisuke and Tetsuya were forced to smile at Taka's explosion of uncontrolled mirth.

Tasuki grinned uncertainly for a moment, then hugged Taka just as hard. "I missed ya, too, Tama… I missed ya a lot!"

"Ah, I see that you boys are still having fun." Yui's tone was coolly acerbic. She tossed jackets to both Tetsuya and Keisuke, who caught them gratefully. "I have to say, this is one of the more unique endings to a night out dancing that I've ever experienced."

"See, that's your problem, Yui." Taka had his arm looped affectionately around Tasuki's neck. "You don't hang out with this guy near enough. If you did, you'd find that being threatened and thrown out of places is just part of a standard night out." Tasuki growled in mock anger and jabbed Taka in the ribs.

"So I've heard," Yui replied dryly, glancing at Chichiri.

Miaka giggled happily to see Taka and Tasuki on good terms at last. Tasuki's face lit up at the sound of her familiar bubbling laugh. "Hey, Mi-chan, that's the first time I've heard you laugh all night!"

Taka jabbed him back. "She likes to watch her husband being publicly humiliated. It appeals to her sense of fun!"

"Taka!" Miaka tried to sound reproachful as she handed Taka his own jacket.

"Well, if that's what makes her happy, then we aim ta please. Want me ta pants him for ya, Mi-chan?"

"All right, let's just go home." Keisuke sounded weary for once. "Tasuki , why don't you and Chichiri ride with me, Tetsuya and Yui,? It'll be a little tight, but since you're staying with me tonight…"

"No, Tasuki and Chichiri are riding with me and Miaka." Taka was firm. "I want to catch up with them a while - we'll just meet at your place, okay, Keisuke? Anyway, I'm sticking Tasuki by the window, then driving _really _fast!!I want to scare the shit out of him!"

"Fuck you, Tama!"

The party proceeded back up the alley. They reached the street just as the rain began to fall harder.

"Shit!" Taka pulled them under the awning of an adjacent club. "Tell you what - you guys stay here with the girls, and Tetsuya and I will bring the cars around." He waved cheerily at Miaka as he and Tetsuya ran off in the sudden downpour.

Within a minute, Tetsuya pulled up in his sports car and waved at Yui and Keisuke to get in. Taka's car came around the corner - but suddenly stopped while it was still half a block away. 

Miaka peered though the intermittent drizzle. "What's Taka doing? Does he want us to walk all the way over there?" Suddenly a feeling of inexplicable dread filled her heart, and she pushed away from the shelter of the awning. She began walking towards Taka's car… and then found herself breaking into a run. 

Her progress was abruptly halted when a hand grabbed her arm, It was Tasuki, catching up to her easily with his seishi speed. "What're ya doin,' Mi-chan? He told us to wait…"

"Something's wrong!" she panted, struggling to pull free of him. "Something's…!"

"She's right!" Chichiri was suddenly right there with them. In the blink of an eye, both he and Tasuki were back in their usual clothes. Chichiri gripped his shakujou as he strode towards the car. "Keep her here, Tasuki! I'll go over and see…"

"No! I'm going too!" Miaka was beginning to shout and struggle in Tasuki's grasp. Tetsuya, Yui and Keisuke started getting out of their own car. 

Tasuki turned and pushed Miaka towards them. "Watch her!" he ordered and took off after Chichiri.

They ran towards the car, finally getting close enough to see Taka sitting behind the wheel, just staring out into space as if mesmerized. "Tama!" yelled Tasuki. "Wake up, man! Hey…" All of a sudden, he screamed in horror as a huge, triangular head loomed up behind Taka, its needlelike teeth dripping with venomous slime. "TAKAAAAAAAA! GET OUTTA THERE!!!"

Chichiri began chanting rapidly, raising his hand as he ran towards the car. He saw swirling tendrils of darkness rising up around Tamahome, enveloping him in inky blackness. Suddenly, the crimson light of Suzaku blazed forth from the ogre symbol on Tamahome's forehead - shining out into the darkness for the last time.

__

_"TAKAAAAAAAAAA!"_ Tasuki recognized Miaka's high-pitched scream as she shot past him. He leaped forward and caught her, dragging her back. 

Chichiri shouted in desperation. "Get back! GET _BACK!!_" With a roar like that of a ravenous beast, the car exploded, blasting a fireball in all directions. Chichiri threw his kesa up to stop the flames - but the fireball was too big, skirting around him to blaze straight towards Tasuki and Miaka.

"RLEKKA Shin'ENNNN!" Tasuki spun the tessen, creating a wall of flame that fought back the flares of the explosion. Chichiri picked himself off the ground and joined Tasuki and Miaka behind the tessen firewall. Finally the flares died back, the fire settling down into muted crackling as it licked at the blackened skeleton of the incinerated car.

There was a period of silence broken only by the gasping pants of the horrified witnesses… and then the screaming began.  
  


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Author's Notes: (4-18-03) ….. (deep breath)

Well. Here we go, everybody. The roller coaster has just made its first stomach-churning drop - and this is only the beginning. More violence and horror to come, I'm afraid… and nothing and no one is safe on this nightmare ride. In spite of the "Casting Stones" giddiness of most of this chapter, "Hidden Paths" has now shown its true character - and you can see that it is very much the dark child of "White Stones in the Moonlight." And if you think you've seen trauma now - just wait until Chapter 6.

Hard to get back into cheerful mode after such a searing scene - but I have to try. First of all, I MUST acknowledge the date - it is April 18, which is the birthday of… my beloved Tasuki! So I had to celebrate by posting today, in spite of work and family commitments (had to color 20 Easter eggs! With Mom and Dad and other family members!) But I couldn't forget my special guy - so here's to you, Gen-chan - Happy Birthday!

Tasuki: Gee, thanks, Roku - nice ta know that you decided to commemorate my birthday first by havin' me roughed up in a ladies' room, then inflictin' a _zipper_ accident on me, and finally turnin' one of my best friends into charcoal briquets!

Roku: Ahhh, don't mention it, sweetness. You know who loves you!

Tasuki: If that's love, I hope I never get ya _mad_ at me!

Onward and outward - thanks to all of you who reviewed Chapter 4. Ah, Kris, it's uncanny how you track with me - yes, I was channeling EXACTLY that scene from Star Wars when I wrote the "entrance into the club" scenario. Sometimes Chichiri just oozes "Obiwan Kenobi-ness," doesn't he? Thank you to all the rest of you who also enjoyed the bishies' flashy fashions - yes, Shadow Priestess, it would be great to see some fanart of this chapter! And J. Liha - oh, dear, here I go corrupting today's youth again. Behave, Roku!

Now for some "obscure Roku references" - first, you may have noticed that Tasuki gets tagged as "an American" twice in these past 2 chapters - once by Tamahome and once by Yui. This is my little in-joke on the fact that Tasuki is a stock anime character known as "the American." The American is always loud and obnoxious, slightly dim and has a tendency to put his foot in his mouth. He has a certain brash charm and a strong sense of honor, but most of the time, he never gets the girl. A few other "Americans" you may be familiar with are Sagara Sanosuke from Rurouni Kenshin, Kyou from "Fruits Basket" (or as one reviewer called him - Tasuk's love-child - an orange-haired, combative, be-fanged and hot -tempered teen - thanks to Mouse-chan for introducing me to this series!), "Joey" from Yu-Gi-Oh… and many more, including Inuyasha, one of my favorites.

The second reference is from Chapter 4, when Tasuki protests to Miaka "Hey, _I'm_ your opponent - I mean dance partner!" This line - I'm your opponent - is continually used in Japanese anime in any battle scene. Inuyasha uses it a lot, especially when he's fighting more than one person, but even Tasuki has used it in the famous "Kodoku battle" scene. After Nakago knocks down Tasuki with his ki blast, he starts hunting down Miaka and Chichiri - only to have Tasuki weakly rebuke him, claiming "I'm the one who's fighting you!" Yes, obscure, but I'm funny that way - I like obscure references, right, Uozumi? ^ ~

Okay, I've chattered on long enough. Next week, I must depart for a conference in Massachusetts - but up until then, I will be working on my fanfics. The question is… which one? Do you want me to take you into the dark and wildly exciting Chapter 6 of Hidden Paths - or would you prefer I get back to Casting Stones - or even Bridge? Let me know, minna! Until I post again…

Ja ne!

Roku-chan

  
  
  
  



	6. Desperate flight

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them. 

However, the plotline for this story, as well as all original characters, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical selection: "The Demon God", Track 2 from the soundtrack to "Princess Mononoke" by Joe Hisaishi, copyright Milan Records and BMG, 1999.  The music begins at Chichiri's and Tasuki's interchange in the ShiJin - and continues through their mad dashes to safety.  


Acknowledgement:   A _very_ grateful thank-you to Kryssa for beta-reading this chapter!  


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Chapter 6.     Desperate Flight

"TAKA!! _TAKA!!_ TAAAAAA-_KAAAAA!!"_ Miaka shrieked her grief and horror into the shattered night. He was in there! He was in that blazing inferno somewhere, and if only she could leap into the flames, she could bring him out! She struggled wildly against the hands that held her in an iron grip. Let _go!!_ They _had_ to release her so that she could get to him!! "Let go of _meeeeee!!"_ she screamed, hating whoever and whatever was dragging her back. How _dare_ they pull her back, when there wasn't any time?!! She had to get to Taka _NOW!!_

She made a sudden twisting spin out of the hands that confined her, but one of the hands caught her arm again, stopping her. She wrenched at the grip that held her so tightly and used the momentum of her spin to reach up and slap her captor hard across the face. "Let me _goooo!!_ I hate you, I _HATE_ YOU, let go of me, you _BASTARD!!" _She fought like a thing possessed, kicking and punching him, feeling her blows connect again and again - but still he wouldn't let GO!

"Miaka!!" Yui gasped as she ran up, her voice choked with tears. "Miaka, honey, _stop!!_ You've got to STOP!!" She couldn't bear it - watching her friend go insane with grief, striking out viciously at Tasuki over and over again, slapping and punching him. Yet he continued to restrain her, accepting her hatred and her blows, the tears starting involuntarily from his eyes as she landed one stinging slap after another. 

Suddenly Keisuke let out a shout of pain. He touched his hand to his sleeve and held his fingers to the light, the blood glistening black in the cold radiance of the streetlights. "What? What?!" 

Tetsuya pulled Yui back towards the alley. "It's shrapnel - look at the bricks! Someone's shooting at us!" 

Chichiri threw up his kesa, trying to shield them from the deadly whine of the silenced bullets. "Run! _RUN!!"_

"Nooooooooo!" shrieked Miaka. "I'm not leaving him, I'm NOT…!" Her hysterical shouts were abruptly cut off as Tasuki clamped his hand over her mouth and took off down the alleyway, dragging her kicking and struggling with him. 

They ran in a blind panic, hearing the high whine of the bullets ricocheting off the walls beside them. Behind them, they could hear shouts as patrons of the various clubs came running out into the street to see the blazing conflagration of Taka's car. Far in the distance, they could hear the wail of sirens - but the police were still too far away to help. They were on their own with their would-be assassin.

Yui ran beside Tetsuya and Keisuke, Tasuki behind them, slowed by the added burden of dragging along a combative and struggling Miaka. Chichiri brought up the rear, chanting warding spells as he ran. The bullets continued to fly, telling them that the assassin was still in hot pursuit. Chichiri put on a burst of speed and caught up to Tetsuya. "Tetsuya, listen!" he panted. "We have to set up an ambush - Tasuki, you take the girls and hide while we try to draw him out. And keep Miaka _quiet!!"_

Tasuki nodded silently and drew Miaka and Yui behind some dumpsters. He kept one hand firmly over Miaka's mouth and used his body to pin her down, while he reached behind him for the tessen. Yui drew close to huddle in his shadow and was shocked to see tears coursing down his face - which contrasted strangely with his expression of determined calm.

The other men ran on ahead - and suddenly Yui heard Keisuke cry out. "I'm hit! I'm _bleeding! _I can't run anymore - keep _going!_ Don't wait for meeee!" She bit her lip, trying to suppress her sobs of horror - how could this night have degenerated so quickly into this nightmare flight into hell? She saw Miaka continuing to struggle against Tasuki's brutally strong hold - and she reached out to her friend, trying to get her to calm down by raising a finger to her lips and pleading silently with tear-filled eyes.

Tasuki jerked his head in warning - and Yui caught her breath as she heard soft footsteps approaching their hiding place. She saw a shadow fall across the dumpsters and watched Tasuki silently point the tessen, tears still falling unheeded down his face as his eyes narrowed in concentration. The shadow began to move away - but at that moment, Miaka made a small muffled noise. The footsteps stopped, then began to approach them once again - when suddenly Keisuke's voice rang out again in a keening wail. "Somebody _help!!_ Somebody help me, I'm _bleeding_ to death here!! HEEEELLLLP MEEEEEEE!!"

The footsteps turned and ran towards Keisuke's voice. Yui couldn't suppress a sob of horror as she heard the bullets whine again - followed by the dull thud of a falling body. Unexpectedly Tasuki stood up, drawing them out of their hiding place. Yui cringed back, but he motioned her out into the open with another jerk of his head, still keeping eerily silent. She stepped out hesitantly - only to see Tetsuya, Chichiri, and an unharmed Keisuke standing over a dark, huddled form.

She couldn't help it - she ran up to Tetsuya and flung herself at him, also reaching out to Keisuke as she sobbed with relief. Chichiri crouched near the fallen assassin, holding his shakujou threateningly across the man's throat. Tasuki staggered towards them, still dragging the struggling Miaka.

The magician's voice was as cold as death as he addressed their incapacitated assailant. "Tell us. Tell us about the people who hired you. Talk now… or never again."

Yui shuddered at the icy threat in Chichiri's voice - and suddenly she knew that neither he nor Tasuki would suffer a moment's qualm at killing this man who had played a part in the attack on their brother seishi. They were warriors, accustomed to dealing in death - and if this man possessed even a shred of self-preservation, he would start talking immediately.

The recognition of his impending death flashed through the assassin's dark eyes. He was a short, nondescript man - the type that passed unnoticed through the streets every day, making him the ideal person to commit crimes of shocking violence, then fade into the background for a clean escape. But even as his mouth opened, helpless panic appeared in his eyes. A thick black mist began pouring out of his mouth, making him gag and struggle for breath. Suddenly, strange jointed appendages began thrusting out of his mouth like the shiny, slimy legs of some obscene arachnid. The man began howling a weird, yodeling scream. Yui screamed in response, Tetsuya pulling her away, Keisuke leaping back in horror as well. Tasuki just backed away carefully, still silently restraining Miaka, while Chichiri leapt to his feet. By now, the jointed spikes were thrusting through the man's eyes, wrenching a gargling scream from his obstructed mouth. Chanting something in a strange guttural tongue, Chichiri lifted the shakujou - then plunged the tip through the assassin's throat. The man twitched twice, then lay still.

The warrior-monk stood over him for one quiet moment - then lifted one hand parallel to his face in an attitude of prayer. His voice was low. "May your soul…" he paused for a moment. "May your immortal soul - and those of your accomplices - burn in hell for all _eternity!"_

Yui gasped at the vicious hatred embodied in Chichiri's curse. Tasuki, his eyes still tearing weirdly yet narrowed in hatred like Chichiri's, kept his odd silence but still managed to project the same aura of cold rage. Yui couldn't believe it - where was the gentle monk that Miaka had told her about? The kindly father figure, the trusted confidant? With a sickening drop in her stomach, Yui faced the truth that she had pushed out of her mind during their panicked flight. Taka -_Tamahome_- was dead, and his brother seishi had no mercy for his killers, even beyond death.

Chichiri suddenly turned and faced Tetsuya and Keisuke, his attitude snapping into business-like calm from his previous fury. "Obviously the Enemy has recruited human accomplices in this world - and also provided the means to prevent these traitors from revealing their plans. We're fighting blind, and the only thing we have to go on is our instinct - and my instincts tell me that we have to secure the Universe of the Four Gods before any more of these creatures cross over into this world!"

Keisuke suddenly spoke up, his voice choked with grief. "We'll do it, Chichiri - Tetsuya and I will get the book, we promise! But in the meantime -_please_- take Miaka and Yui back with you into the ShiJinTenChiSho. You and Taiitsukun can protect them better than we can - and I couldn't stand it if anything happened to my little sister! So, _please_…"

Miaka made muffled sounds behind Tasuki's hand and clawed at his arm to try to get away. But it was Yui's voice that rang out in vehement protest. "No!! No, I'm not going! You don't understand, Keisuke - we have to get the book back under control if we're to close off the portal! And the book doesn't recognize you or Tetsuya as anyone important. But I'm the Priestess of Seiryuu, and the book has obeyed me before - so_ I_ need to be the one to retrieve it!"

Chichiri stared at her for a moment. "She's right," he finally admitted. "But you don't need two priestesses for that task, so we'll take Miaka back with us and hide her in the Refuge."

Miaka made a high-pitched moan of protest and tried to kick Tasuki once again. He twisted out of her reach, still holding her - but Chichiri finally noticed his tear-streaked face and strange silence. "Tasuki… I'm sorry that we don't have time to grieve, but…"

"It's not that, 'Chiri." Tasuki's words were choked out between clenched teeth. "It's just that Miaka's got her teeth in my hand - and… and… it's been like this since we first started running!"

Chichiri started forward in horror. "Let her go!"

Tasuki released her, then doubled over in pain, the blood flowing from the jagged tear in his hand. Miaka began screaming immediately. "TAKA!! We've got to go back for TAKA!! I'm not LEAVING HIIIIIIIMMMM!!"

Yui ran forward, horrified at Miaka's raging grief. With Tasuki's blood running down her chin and her eyes wild, Miaka looked like a demon possessed - and Yui caught her in her arms as she turned to run back towards the street. "Miaka, it's me, Yui! Stop this, _please_ - Taka wouldn't want you to act like this, please listen!!"

"Noooooooo!" shrieked Miaka. "Stop talking about him as if he's dead!! He's not dead!! HE'S NOT DEAD!!" Caught up in her madness, she struck out, slapping Yui hard across the face. 

Yui cried out in pain, and Chichiri started forward, grabbing Miaka's shoulders and shaking her hard. "Listen to me, Priestess of Suzaku! Get _control_ of yourself! How_ dare_ you dishonor Tamahome by attacking his brother seishi - and your own best friend?!"

Miaka's eyes finally focused on his face. She turned her head to see Tasuki still bent over in pain, as Keisuke tried to bind his dripping hand with a strip of material he had torn from his own shirt… then turned yet again to see Yui holding her reddened cheek with one hand as tears trickled from her eyes. Miaka's face crumpled in grief and shame - and her knees gave out, making her sag in Chichiri's grip as she shook with ragged, heart-rending sobs. "Nooooooooooo. Noooooooooooo. Oh, please, noooooooooooo."

Yui ran up and took Miaka from Chichiri, the two girls sinking to their knees on the cold, wet pavement. Yui stroked Miaka's hair, trying to get her to calm. "Shhhhhhh, honey, shhhhhhh, baby… try not to cry. It's going to be all right…" she choked on her own sobs.

Miaka raised her eyes to Yui's, the tears shining brightly before spilling over. "No, it's not. It's not going to be all right. It's never going to be all right, _ever_ again - because he's dead. I know it - I saw it with my own eyes. He's gone, isn't he?"

Yui sobbed, unable to speak - but answered with a short nod. At that, Miaka began keening in a lost, desolate wail. Yui joined her, crying uncontrollably as she clung tightly to her devastated friend. Tetsuya held Keisuke as the two men wept unashamedly for their lost friend. Only Chichiri remained dry-eyed, his one eye shining with a cold, bitter light. He turned to Tasuki, still kneeling a short way off, cradling his wounded hand as sparkling drops fell to the pavement beneath him… and Chichiri knew that this time, they were not tears of pain. "For each tear…" he whispered to the hidden Enemy, his voice soft with vengeance. "For every fallen tear, I will extract a price in blood… a thousandfold price, I _promise_ you!" He walked over and crouched beside Tasuki, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Tasuki…" he murmured.

Tasuki lifted his face. "Chichiri… Tama's ki. Mount Taikyoku?" His voice held desperate hope.

Chichiri shook his head very slowly. "No. I can't find it anywhere. It's gone." His answer was very soft, keeping this devastating news from Miaka.

"Oh, _gods!_ Like all the rest then?!"

Chichiri nodded, holding a finger to his lips and nodding in Miaka's direction.

"But how did that fucker fit in Tama's carriage? He _had_ to have seen it when he first opened the door!"

"I think that it is able to cross dimensions, Tasuki - the way we did when we crossed over. The difference is that we crossed over with our entire bodies at once, whereas that creature seemed to have the ability to extrude only certain parts of its being. How this ties into its access to the portal - I'll have to find out."

Tasuki glanced over at the shattered girls - and his gaze grew cold and flat. "They'll pay," he whispered, his thoughts paralleling Chichiri's. "For what they've done to Tama… _and _Miaka… I'll see that they pay!!" 

"Yes… we'll both see to it, Tasuki. But first we have to get Miaka to safety." Chichiri rose and walked over to Tetsuya and Keisuke, raising one hand and muttering under his breath as he approached them. They calmed under his soothing spell, suddenly able to push their grief to one side.

"Keisuke, you're right. It's time that we took Miaka away from here. Every moment that we delay in either of our missions may end up costing us dearly. There is one thing I would like you to do, however - just hide out and wait until I can get Taiitsukun to send over another couple of seishi to help you, perhaps Urumiya and Hatsui…"

"No!" Tetsuya's voice was resentful. "We don't need to be babysat by seishi! Keisuke and I can look after Yui ourselves!" 

Keisuke appeared stunned by his best friend's outburst. "Errr, Tetsuya, I don't think…"

"Look, asshole, in case you didn't notice, this ain't no dance floor pissin' contest!" Tasuki cut right to the heart of the matter as usual. "Stakes are way higher than fussin' over whose cock is harder! If you give two shits about your Priestess of Seiryuu, you'll take whatever help you're offered, whether it's from warriors from another world, or from some snot-nosed kid on th' street! 'Cause in the end, the winners are the ones who're left alive to tell the tale!" He stopped abruptly, his expression filling with bitterness as he suddenly remembered the one who was no longer there.

Tetsuya flushed with embarrassment and resentment, both at the crudity of Tasuki's remarks - and at their ultimate insight. Keisuke stepped in before things could escalate between the two angry and bereaved men. "Look, it's stupid for us to argue. We all have jobs to do, so let's just get to it, right?" He turned to Chichiri. "Chichiri, all help would be deeply appreciated - but until then, Tetsuya and I will do the best we can. Fair enough?" 

Chichiri nodded, and Keisuke then turned to his most difficult task. He crouched down and began to pull the weeping Miaka from Yui's embrace. "Imouto-chan… it's time for you to go." His voice was suffused with tenderness and grief.

"Noooooooo!" Miaka clung to Yui. Yui wept harder but pushed Miaka back, taking out her handkerchief and gently cleaning the blood from Miaka's face. "He's right, Miaka - you have to leave now." 

But Miaka wasn't listening to reason, and she clung to Yui all the harder. Keisuke gripped Miaka's shoulders and forcibly removed her from Yui's arms. "Miaka, _please_… Imouto-chan, please do this for me." He was weeping openly now. "I just lost a brother tonight - I can't bear to lose you, too! So please, go with the people who can protect you for me…"

Chichiri came up and placed his arm firmly around the distraught girl. Tasuki joined them and tried to take Miaka's hand - but she caught sight of his crudely bandaged hand and turned from him in shame. She buried her face in Chichiri's shoulder as he swirled his kesa around the three of them.

Yui wept, "I love you, Miaka!" just as they faded mystically from view. Her knees grew momentarily weak, but she found herself supported by two strong arms. She gave a watery and grateful smile to both Tetsuya and Keisuke and tried to assume a brave and cheerful tone. "Well, my warriors - onto our new mission!" They turned and began heading back down the alleyway.

Suddenly Yui stiffened. All the hairs on the back of her neck were prickling. "Hide!" she whispered frantically. Keisuke and Tetsuya drew her behind the same dumpsters that she had hidden behind just minutes ago. All three held their breath as a huge crooked shadow passed near their hiding place, stalking along on jointed legs while hissing out fetid breath. It paused for a moment - then continued on to the dead body of the assassin. It paused again, making sniffing noises as it investigated the body. Suddenly, they heard a terrible tearing and crunching sound. Yui turned greenish as they were forced to listen to the creature devouring the body of its accomplice.  


"Destroying the evidence?" Keisuke whispered very softly.

Tetsuya was as pale as Yui. "I take back what I said earlier about seishi help," he muttered under his breath. The three drew closer together behind the dumpsters… waiting, praying… and holding one another.

   
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The Suzaku team landed near the base of a desolate, unnamed mountain in Hokkan, the same location that they had chosen for their crossover into Tokyo. Night had fallen, moonless and cold, the wind keening forlornly to itself as it chased around the large scattered boulders, remnants of avalanches from winters past. Chichiri pulled Miaka into the shelter of a huge boulder that towered above them. She gave only a brief look around before collapsing into a miserable huddle on the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees and sobbing inconsolably. Tasuki shifted his weight from foot-to-foot, his expression at once tormented and lost as he stood helpless, unable to think of any way to offer comfort.

"Tasuki - get the horses." Chichiri knew that the best thing he could do for his brother seishi was to keep him busy. "Just to be cautious, we're going to have to take a roundabout route back to the Refuge, so we may as well get started now."

Tasuki walked around to the other side of the boulder, looking out toward the distant forest. He gave a series of whistles of varying length and pitch. Within a minute, he heard the answering whinnies from the shelter of the trees. His seishi sight enabled him to pick up the black outline of Makaze galloping towards them across the dry grassy plain, followed closely by the smaller, brighter form of Hikari. Makaze ran straight at Tasuki, pulling up just short of mowing down his master, his hot breath puffing and steaming in the chill air.

"Asshole! Show-off!" Tasuki thumped the stallion's sides affectionately. Makaze bobbed and dipped his head proudly, as if he were receiving fulsome praise. Tasuki felt along his sides and adjusted the saddle girth. "Looks like 'Kaze's lost a little weight, 'Chiri - we must have been gone a few days…"

"I was hoping that we wouldn't have been gone so long - things may have changed greatly at the Refuge during our absence. I need to get a message to Taiitsukun right away and ask her to send Hatsui and Urumiya to Miaka's world to help the others…" His voice cut off abruptly.

Tasuki chimed in absently, checking the contents of the saddlebags. "Well, at least it ain't snowin' for once. 'Bout damn time it started actin' like spring in this godforsaken country - no wonder that Genbu's such a freaky god. Or…" His own voice trailed off as he noticed Chichiri standing rapt and attentive, staring up into the northwest quadrant of the sky. "'Chiri?"

Suddenly the magician darted forward, seizing Hikari's reins. "Get the horses behind the boulder! Now, _NOW!!"_

Tasuki leapt to follow Chichiri's command, pulling Makaze around the sheltering rock to stand above the still huddled form of Miaka. "Somethin's comin', right?"

Chichiri's reply was grim. "_Many_ somethings, Tasuki!"

"How many?"

"Maybe thirty… maybe more."

Tasuki cursed fluently. "Goddamn fuckin'…!"

"Shield your ki, Tasuki - our only choice is to hide. There's too many of them!" Suddenly Chichiri let out a blistering curse, making Tasuki raise his eyebrows. "I've forgotten Miaka! Her distress is sending up the equivalent of signal flares!" He crouched beside the distraught girl. "Miaka, listen - you _must_ control yourself. You must try to shield your ki!" 

But Miaka was beyond any reasoning, her searing grief driving her nearly to the edge of madness. She flinched away from Chichiri, covering her head with her arms and crying even harder. Chichiri grimaced as he recalled her hysteria at Nuriko's death - how could he expect her to be in control when she saw Tamahome killed before her very eyes? "Damn it!" There was only one thing he could do - but there wasn't enough time to do it properly! He would just have to do the best he could and hope that the crude spell would work. 

He turned Miaka's face upward, restraining her struggles with a firm grip on her chin - he hated having to be so brutal, but _all_ of their lives were at stake! - then placed his left hand over Miaka's brow, extending his forefinger above her eyebrow and his thumb at her cheekbone. He muttered a complicated rhythm of soft sibilant words, hissing the last few chants of the spell rapidly. Miaka suddenly calmed, her emerald eyes growing wide and blank. Chichiri breathed a brief prayer of thanks to all the gods as her violent aura died down to a level easily shielded by him or Tasuki. 

He stood up to gaze once more into the night sky, narrowing his eyes to discern a dark triangle against the blackness of the sky - and cursed again. "It's too late - they've turned and are heading straight for us!" Tasuki stood silent and attentive, his stance indicating battle-readiness. Each warrior instinctively knew that now was the time for decisions that would either give them the chance to survive or condemn them to death.

Chichiri weighed their options, calculations flashing through his mind faster than the speed of light - then set their course. "Tasuki - they seem to want a war - so I'm going to give it to them! I intend to find out everything I can about this Enemy and their ultimate goal. To do that, I must find my way to their base of operations - and these ungodly creatures are going to take me there, whether they know it or not!"

Tasuki squared his shoulders. "Fine, 'Chiri, I'm ready to fight. Win or lose, I'm taking them down!"

"No! Not you, Tasuki - you're going to take Miaka to the Refuge. I'll set up a diversion, and you two will escape…"

"NO! _Fuck_ that, 'Chiri, I'm _not_ runnin' out on you!! All three of us will just have to take our chances together - I'll protect Miaka while we're…"

"No, Tasuki, you're not _listening!_ Miaka's only hope is for you to get her away while I draw off this attack!"

Tasuki's voice began to rise in near-hysteria. "_You're_ the one who's not listening!! I'm not losin' you, 'Chiri - I'm not leavin' you to fight alone out…" His words were cut off when Chichiri turned and slapped him across the face. Tasuki's eyes went wide in shock - it was the first time that Chichiri had ever struck him.

"LISTEN TO ME, SUZAKU NO TASUKI!" Chichiri's voice was an enraged roar. "WHAT IS YOUR REASON FOR LIVING?! WHAT IS THE SOLE PURPOSE OF YOUR EXISTENCE?!"

Tasuki held his cheek. "To protect the Priestess of Suzaku," he whispered.

"Then _fulfill_ your purpose!! My fate is my concern, not yours!" Once again, Chichiri flinched inwardly at his forced brutality - but yet again, he had no choice. He knew the desperate panic and pain that drove Tasuki to cling to his last remaining companion from their brotherhood of years past… and he felt the same pain deep in his own heart. But they both had a higher purpose to fulfill and no time to argue about the consequences.

Their time left together was now measured in seconds - too little time to say all that could be said from the heart. In fact, he had barely enough time to impart vital information to Tasuki. "Tasuki…" he gripped his brother seishi's hand, hoping that the gesture of comfort would be apology enough for his earlier brutality, "you need to know what I've done to shield Miaka. I've cast a spell - a temporary spell - that has caused her to forget Tamahome. She has no memory of him at all."

Tasuki went pale but remained silent, understanding the need to obtain all necessary information before they were forced to part.

"You MUST NOT force her back to those memories all at once, Tasuki - the trauma may well destroy her emotional stability, if not her sanity. If the spell has worked correctly, she will regain her memories little by little. You may answer any questions she has, but _only_ those questions. Try not to give her any more information than what she needs to deal with on a daily basis. Do you understand?!"

"Yes."

"One more thing - we are obviously being tracked. Take a roundabout route to the Refuge, heading northwest until you are certain that you're not leading the Enemy to Crystal Mountain. Beware of letting people know who you are - you know that the Enemy has accomplices among humans in both worlds. I will try to meet up with you at the Refuge or even sooner, but do not wait for me."

"What about you? What if things start going wrong…?"

"If all else fails, and I can't get back to you again - _keep _running and _keep _hiding, Tasuki. Keep her safe…"

"Until when?"

"Until the end of your days, if need be."

Tasuki nodded. He suddenly reached out and drew the older man into an embrace. "Suzaku keep you in his care, Chichiri - Suzaku bless…" he stopped, choking up.

"And you, my brother. But now - it's time."

They drew apart. Tasuki took Miaka from where she had been sitting staring blankly at the two men, and tossed her up onto Makaze's back behind the saddle. She squeaked in alarm as she began slipping off the other side, so Tasuki reached up a hand to steady her before jumping into the saddle in front of her. "Here, Mi-chan - we're gonna have a rough ride, so you'd better hang on tight to my belt. And try ta keep quiet, okay?" She swallowed nervously and nodded. 

Chichiri swung up into Hikari's saddle, preparing himself by focusing his ki with a muttered mantra. He readied multiple spells, placing them in the forefront of his mind. He then turned back to face Tasuki, all business once again. "When I send you the signal, take off and try to get under cover of the woods as fast as you can. I'll destroy as many as I can, but I have to leave at least one alive to lead me back to where it came from - so be very careful!" He smiled at Miaka. "Hold on tight, Miaka - and Suzaku's blessings be on you both!" Miaka just stared back at Chichiri, wide-eyed and silent.

They began to make out the high keening cries of the obscene creatures drifting out of the midnight sky. Even without that auditory warning, they would have known of the presence of the beasts by the insidious scratching at their minds, like vermin scratching at walls. Chichiri exchanged one last nod with Tasuki - then, with a muted "Hyah!," spurred Hikari out into the open, riding eastward into plain view of the monstrosities that swarmed above.  
   


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Tasuki kept a firm grip on Makaze's reins. He could feel the stallion tense beneath him, his haunch muscles bunched as he fretted at the bit, straining to follow Hikari in their usual pattern. "No, 'Kaze - whoa there now. We're not goin' that way this time - c'mon, buddy, settle down!" Makaze tossed his head in frustration but obeyed, his master empathizing with him for once, fretting at the restraints that Chichiri had placed on _him_.

The magician galloped quietly away from them, shielding his ki and riding in a zig-zag pattern in an attempt to mask his point of origin. Chichiri looked up at the jagged triangle growing rapidly larger in the northwest sky. Yes, it was definitely _them,_ a whole ungodly _flock_ of them! He prayed to Suzaku for strength, trying not to think about how it usually took the combined strength of two seishi to kill a single beast. Now was the time, before he was forced to draw their notice, to send out his distress messages to Taiitsukun. He muttered a brief spell while holding his ki shield firm, imparting a mental message of Tamahome's death and their forced flight with Miaka to several origami birds that he drew out of his breast pocket. He finished by begging assistance for Yui and her protectors - then tossed the paper birds into the air, consigning each to one of two separate locations. They snapped open in the gusting wind, forming into tiny peregrine falcons that scattered and swirled on the chill currents of air.   


Suddenly a black shadow took shape directly overhead. Chichiri looked up to see thin membranous wings blotting out the starlight.

He jerked hard on Hikari's reins, making her squeal as she veered sharply to one side. Where in the seven _hells_ had that outrider beast come from?! He was going to have a devil of a time defending himself if they were crossing dimensions as they attacked! But the foul creature unexpectedly ignored him, turning instead to attack... the message falcons.

Chichiri cursed fluently as falcon after falcon fell beneath the jagged claws of the beast, falling to the ground as shredded balls of paper. How could this thing understand the significance of the little mystical birds? There was no doubt that it was controlled by a higher intelligence!   


He scanned the skies once again, noting that the beasts were flying in formation with a precision that was... unnatural. No echelon of geese nor school of fish ever moved with such perfectly symmetrical intervals between each member - no, this was something that spoke of mathematics, not nature. He suddenly noticed a shifting of the precise pattern and realized that they were beginning a meticulous scouting of the area below. It was time, then.

He intoned his next spell, conjuring up an image of a black horse with two riders racing beside him. It wasn't his best illusion, the horse and riders lacking all facial features, but hopefully it would suffice in the darkness. He needed to conserve his strength for the more powerful spells he would be casting shortly. He looked over his shoulder to see the vanguard of demon creatures approaching the huge boulder that concealed Tasuki and Miaka. "HIKAR_IIII!" _he shouted, his mount knowing through experience that he was not calling to her. A fountain of light shot up from his upraised hand, sending flares of ki blasting into the air. The beasts squealed in excitement at the powerful life force dancing temptingly before them. They veered off as a unit, wings beating heavily as they focused their pursuit on the tiny fleeing figures below.

Hikari pounded across the rocky ground, her nostrils flaring as she nearly flew over the challenging landscape. She did not have the length of leg of her companion, but what she lacked in size, she made up for in speed and intelligence. Instinct told her when to dodge and veer to escape the slashing claws of her airborne adversaries, and her longtime familiarity with her master's strange powers resulted in her giving her phantom companions only a passing glance. The horse beside her may have looked somewhat like Makaze, but it lacked his familiar scent. 

Chichiri sent ki blast after ki blast rocketing into the night sky like shimmering fireworks, all the while carefully aiming each flare towards his ultimate goal. Their only chance lay in him destroying as many of the creatures as possible, and he knew with grim certainty that there was only one way he could do that. He sent a brief prayer to Suzaku to assist him as he drew on powers from dark and hidden dimensions - dimensions that he knew his patron god reviled. "There is no other way!" he pleaded silently with his god - then plunged ahead. 

He chanted strange and forbidden prayers in an ominous, guttural tongue, spinning a web of dark mists in a rapidly rising mystical wind. He kept diverting the creatures' attention with the sparkling ki flares, all the while drawing them deeper into the developing shadow cyclone. Suddenly his vision began to darken at the edges, and he knew that he had very little time. "_Almost_..." he sent a message back to his brother seishi.

Tasuki stood bolt upright in the saddle, then turned to Miaka shivering behind him. "It's almost time, Mi-chan - listen! Hold tight to my belts and remember to lean whichever way I lean! If you fall off, we're_ both _dead, 'cause I ain't leavin' you behind! So understand this, Miaka - you _gotta_ hang on for both our sakes!" She flinched at his vehemence but nodded in meek acquiescence, her eyes wide and confused. Makaze shuddered in anticipation, reading the sudden tension in his master's body.

At that moment, Chichiri threw all of his power into his most deadly spell. "_Shi NE!!!"_ he howled, screaming his hatred and loathing of these creatures, blasting all of his grief and anguish over Tamahome's murder into the darkest unknown reaches of his spiritual powers. The dark dimensions fed eagerly on his pain and bitterness, sucking eagerly at his soul - then returned the darkness to him in the form of a roaring black cyclone, spinning with evil winds that cut into living flesh like a million tiny razors. The nightmare beasts realized the trap too late. They tried to veer off but were sucked into the mystical black vortex of distilled despair, spinning helplessly in its savage embrace and screaming in agony as they were cut to pieces. Only a fortunate few at the very rear of the flock pulled back at the last possible moment, realizing the trap in time to escape its deadly clutches. 

The dark magician felt himself falling, his soul straining and splintering beneath the evil pull of the forces he employed, all his spell-induced illusions dissolving with the last of his strength. He sent his last conscious thought to the man he loved like a brother - _"NOW!!"_

Tasuki gripped Miaka's hands tighter onto his belt, then spurred Makaze forward into the exposed open plain that lay between them and the cover of the forest to the north. The great stallion thundered across the field, the dried grass helping them by muffling his powerful hoofbeats. Tasuki bent over his neck, trying to hold Miaka to him as she bounced and slipped back and forth on the horse's powerful haunches. Dammit, didn't she remember how to sit a horse?! Tasuki considered reining in Makaze until he could stabilize Miaka's seat - but then heard a sound that sent all the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

It was a chilling screech of triumph, above them and growing louder and more piercing by the millisecond. Dammit, he could practically _feel_ the rank carrion breath of the attacking beast! Tasuki desperately looked ahead to the rapidly approaching tree cover and knew that they were in a race for their lives. He released Miaka's hands and pulled out the tessen in one swift movement, when he suddenly spied a lone outlying tree just ahead of the forest. "MAKAZE, HO!" he roared, pulling the lead rein hard to the left.

The giant stallion pivoted and whipped around the young tree, his master leaning hard to the inside. For once, Miaka did as she should and leaned in at the same angle, her arms wrapped tightly around Tasuki's waist. They felt the blast of air from the creature's wings, heard the snapping of its jaws as they closed on the empty space where they had been only a millisecond before.

They were now behind the beast, and Tasuki took full advantage of their position. "RLEKKA SHIN'ENNNN!!" The holy fire blasted the creature with full force, igniting it into a shrieking, spinning, plunging meteor. They thundered past the burning wreckage of its body, Tasuki's seishi senses telling him that they weren't finished yet. 

He was right. The branches snapped under the assault of at least two more of the nightmare beasts as they plunged downward through the canopy, heedless of pain or injury. Makaze slalomed wildly between the trees, his clever maneuvering keeping them clear of the attacking teeth and claws, but also preventing Tasuki from getting a clear shot with the tessen. It didn't matter - Miaka was slipping so badly that it took all of Tasuki's concentration just to keep her on the horse. He swore under his breath and sent a silent prayer to Suzaku. Maybe it was their patron god or maybe it was Makaze's skill, but they gradually pulled away from their attackers, losing them in the heavy canopy of the dense forest.

Tasuki pulled Makaze in to a walk, letting the stallion catch his wind in great heaving breaths. He stealthily sent out his own shielded ki in a limited reconnaissance - yes, the creatures were still out there, and it was only a matter of time before they discovered their quarry. The only thing he could do was to turn the attack on them. However, to accomplish that, he had to work without his greatest liability - Miaka.

He reined in Makaze to a stop and slid out of the saddle, catching Miaka as she practically fell off Makaze's back. Tasuki looked around and pulled Miaka into the shelter of some low, dense shrubs. "Listen, Mi-chan - there's somethin' I gotta do. And I can't take ya with me 'cause you're bouncin' around on Makaze's back like a sack of turnips - and the moves I'm about ta pull make what we've done so far look like a leisurely stroll 'round the Imperial palace! So I'm askin' ya to stay here, hidden nice and quiet till I come back for ya, 'kay?"

Miaka turned wide, frightened eyes to him. "You're leaving me here?" she squeaked. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "With... with those monsters still out there?!"

"Ah, Mi-chan, don't cry. Ya know that it kills me when ya do that. I'm comin' back, I _promise_ you - right after I get rid of those fuckers. So just sit tight in the meantime and shield your ki, and I'll be back before you even..."

"Shield my ki?"

"Oh... yeah... umm, think small thoughts, Miaka - like you're a little rabbit or somethin.' Just count leaves and think quiet, hidden things - that'll keep ya safe till I get back." 

Tasuki turned and remounted Makaze, turning his back firmly on Miaka's lost and helpless gaze. By the _Gods_, he was going to wipe out those fuckin' bastards for every tear they made her cry! And _nothing_ was going to stop him from coming back to her as he promised, not all the demons in all the seven hells!!

Tasuki trotted quietly through the woods, looking for a familiar landscape feature from his and Chichiri's previous journey to their crossover location. There it was - a slight rise in the midst of a natural clearing. A perfect trap - now all he needed was the bait. He dismounted and searched quickly through Makaze's saddlebags, pulling out two cylinders and a small stack of papers, along with a charcoal stick. Thank Chichiri for getting him more of those things! He firmly turned his mind from the curious blankness in his being where Chichiri's ki usually registered — there was no time to think about that now. Now was the time for retribution!

He pulled down on Makaze's bridle so that he could murmur a few simple words into the stallion's ear. Makaze bobbed his head as if he understood, then faded deeper into the woods, leaving his master alone. Tasuki scribbled a few phrases onto some of the papers using the charcoal crayon, then unwound long lengths of string from the mysterious cylinders. He squinted out at the exposed hill in the clearing, muttering under his breath as he made rapid calculations — then trimmed a short length of string from each, leaving the longer length of fuse still trailing from each cylinder.

Everything was just about ready. He breathed a brief prayer for success, then chanted "Rlekka shin'en" in an undertone. The tessen glowed with a small flame, which he touched to both fuses. "Now!" he thought, secreting each cylinder in his belt. He began to run towards the clearing, brandishing the scribbled papers between two fingers and chanting one final spell. "All right, fuckers — time to burn!"  
  


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High above the forest canopy, the two remaining creatures glided in a calculated search pattern, seeking out the distinctive energy signatures of their remaining targets. Data from the previous attacks which had destroyed their nestmates flowed through their neuronal pathways, altering behavior to adapt to current conditions. They changed their vocalization impulses from fear-inducing shrieks to stealthy silence and added extra velocity to their planned dives, acknowledging the unexpected speed and cunning of their adversaries.

Suddenly, their keen telescopic sight registered a brief flare of temperature-induced photons. They altered their course toward that heat source, which originated from a densely covered area just adjacent to an open area in the cluster of native flora. At that moment, the figure of the large quadripedal transport animal burst out into the open area, an indistinct shape huddled on its back. The two creatures banked sharply and plummeted towards their target in a silent, controlled dive. Nevertheless, the enhanced extrasensory apparatus of their target must have detected them, for bright bursts of flames shot up in their direction, accompanied by the loud vocalizations from the bipedal rider. The pursuers' kaleidoscopic eyes irised closed, momentarily blinding them while adjusting to the new intense light levels — causing them to miss another dark shape that darted swiftly up to the hill, then retreated, moving almost too fast to be seen. The superior visual adaptability of the creatures' eyes manifested quickly, and they were once more in a controlled dive at the target as it raced towards the small rise in the open area.

The first creature made minor aerodynamic adjustments that enhanced its speed, enabling it to reach the target first. Just as it stretched out its neck to breathe the black mists over the targets, an enormous blast of heat and sound rent the atmosphere, followed almost immediately by yet another violent explosion, incinerating the creature. Its metallic screams were joined by the screams of the horse and rider, as all three were swallowed by the flames. The second creature was just near enough that the bomb blasts sent it spinning crazily out of its flight pattern, entangling it in the limbs of a nearby tree. But it soon recovered, severing the constricting flora with its razor-sharp teeth. It rose up heavily, significantly damaged in both its organic and engineered components but still enacting its surveillance-and-capture program. Its visual centers irised open and closed several times as it flew above the wreckage of its colleague. The target and its transport animal must have been completely consumed in the explosions, for there was little trace of any carbon-based elements except for some small ashes that originated from processed wood pulp. The beast circled the area again and again, broadening its search parameters to include light-reflecting pigment as well as movement. After the fourth pass, it registered absence of any qualifying input, so it turned to make its way back to its base to impart all recent data.

As the creature turned away after its last scanning pass over the explosion site, a dark figure stirred softly against a nearby tree. It was black from head-to-toe, except for a brief gleam of golden eyes that reflected the faint starlight. It closed its eyes to conceal the telltale gleam and rested still and quiet long after the creature had departed.

The creature lost some altitude as it proceeded on its way. Damage to its flight mechanisms and neuronal pathways was extensive, thus accounting for its failure to register a small silvery-blue winged life form that flew up to join it. The silver-blue avian, resembling a rare creature called a phoenix, caught onto the area slightly above where the diaphanous wings of the beast joined its body. The phoenix nestled there, apparently exhausted by its efforts, for it gripped the leathery flesh of the damaged creature between its tiny claws, tucked its head beneath its wing and appeared to fall asleep, carried along with the beast to its final destination.  
  


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Miaka shivered in her tight huddle under the sheltering shrubs, clasping her knees and trying to think "small thoughts" as he had instructed her. Her teeth began to chatter with cold and fear, so she diverted her thoughts to count the rhythm of the soft clicking of her teeth against each other. It was no use. Her thoughts kept returning to that explosion - how long ago had that been? She was losing all sense of time, but she knew that it had been at least fifteen minutes ago. If he survived that, shouldn't he have returned by now, as he had promised? What if he had died in that fiery blast? For some reason, that thought made her heart clench. She would be alone then - alone and lost without her one protector. Slow tears began leaking from her eyes.

Suddenly, a dark form rose up before her, tall, slim and black from head to toe. Strangely glowing eyes were the only features she could make out - and she shrieked in fear, terrified that the demons had found her at last. The figure darted at her and muffled her screams with a strong leathery grip.

"Shhhh, hush, Miaka, it's only me! Don't scream - we hafta keep quiet for awhile, until I'm certain that they're gone! We can't let 'em know that we're still alive!"

Miaka's eyes were wide with terror - it sounded like him, but why did he look like this? Could he have been a demon in disguise all along? A muffled sob of fear escaped her.

Comprehension dawned in the amber eyes that reflected the faint starlight, and he reached up to the darkness at his face, unhooking a face veil and pulling off the attached black headscarf. Although it was still very dark, the dim starlight allowed her to make out light-colored hair tied in a long ponytail. Gleaming white teeth appeared as he grinned apologetically at her, removing his gauntlets. "Sorry 'bout that, Mi-chan. I didn't mean ta scare ya — I just forgot that you never saw me in my bandit gear before. Ya know, in my line of work, sometimes it don't pay to be easily picked out of a crowd at a hundred paces. So if for any reason I don't wanna be recognized, I wear this headscarf and veil - but I forgot that _you_ wouldn't recognize me, either!"

"I thought you were dead. I thought you weren't coming back!" Her voice was hoarse with tears.

"C'mon, don't cry, Mi-chan - I'm not that easy ta kill! I _always_ come back - you _know_ that I always come back!"

"No, I don't know that! How am I _supposed_ to know that you always come back - when I don't even know who you are!!"  
  


  
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 **Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

  
Imouto-chan - Little Sister  
  
Hikari! - Light! 

Shi ne! - Die!

Rlekka Shin'en! - Divine Explosive Fire of the Gods!

Author's Notes: (4-24-03) Hmmm. So the plot twists and turns once again. Keep your harnesses fastened, minna. 

First of all, I would like to thank all of you reviewers for your enthusiastic comments and encouragement on the past two chapters - See what you've done? You've inspired me to work on Chapter 6 instead of packing my bags for my business trip. End result - Roku posts a new chapter of Hidden Paths at 3 AM on the morning she must catch a flight out to the East Coast - and FAILS to finish packing her bags - and so must start now! Gyaaahhhh, I'm a crazy person! An extremely sleep-deprived crazy person!!

Well, I've gotten even with you. As you can tell, my aim was to write an extremely exciting, action-packed chapter, but the lateness of the hour has erased all my self-judgmental capabilities, so I don't know whether I've succeeded or failed. You see, this whole chapter plays exactly like a movie in my head (especially with the extremely evocative musical selection!), so what I've done is take dictation from that movie. The problem is that to _be_ that visually descriptive, I have to get very _wordy_… (Aikido-chan: Edit!! Edit, I beg you!!)… and I don't know if I succeeded in drawing you into the movie - or ended up boring you to tears.

So, since I will be doing my usual "hunting for online access" while I'm forced away from my beloved family, I'm going to break with my own principles and ask for input from you to make my eternal search for Internet access worth my while. First of all, I really need the constructive criticism on this chapter - secondly, like every other author, I get a thrill from hearing from my readers. Oh, and speaking of my readers, I would like to welcome my newest and shyest reviewer to the lists. Hey, my Tasuki and I got the biggest kick out of reading your review! Two hours, huh? Congratulate your husband from us! Yeah, that's about how long it took me and my guy to research EACH WS love scene.

Kryssa: (hits Roku with a rolled-up newspapaer) TMI!! TMI!! Cut it out, wench!!

Oh, all right. Back to a previous topic, i.e. me getting even with you for "making" me write. You may have noticed the extremely science-fictiony Section 4 of this chapter. Read it carefully, my friends. If you do, you will be rewarded with knowing what Tasuki did to ambush the creatures (hint: reference his first appearance in the anime series) and what became of Chichiri. All the info is there - but I make you work for it, especially by taking you into the weird POV of the "nightmare beast."

Now onto my fun references - well, some are not so fun. Let's go in order.

First of all, Chichiri's merciless and vengeful character in Section One - may seem OOC to many of you but is consistent with my White Stones Chichiri - he is very much the Chichiri of the oni destruction scene, and of course, the eventual Chichiri of "Bridge Over the Abyss." (teaser for Bridge fans!) You see, I just don't see Chichiri as this peaceful, Zen sorta guy. I see him as passionate and powerful, always struggling to keep his emotions under firm control. But he has a breaking point, and it is always the same thing - harm coming to one of his beloved "Suzaku brothers." If you accepted his violent vengeance against the oni for the physical abuse of Tasuki - how much more vengeful do you think he would be for the murder of Tamahome?

Onward to a more "cheerful" reference - do any of you remember the "volleyball scene" from WS, where Tamahome mocks Tasuki for "being stupid enough to ride his horse 'round and 'round a tree"? Now you know why Tasuki ever practiced that particular move as a Mt. Reikaku bandit - it is extraordinarily useful in escaping and "getting the jump on" a pursuer. Think barrel-racing by cutting ponies in rodeos. Makaze's and Tasuki's skill saved all their lives in that one critical moment. You might think that it's weird that I had this scene in mind when I wrote that chapter of WS nearly a year ago - but remember, I conceived of THIS story's main plotline _before_ I was inspired to write WS. Those who know me well know how it tickles me to tie plot points together across fics and anime episodes and other obscure references.

Last reference, I promise - Chichiri's severe reminder to Tasuki in Section 3 of the "reason for his existence" - refers to the last episode of Fushigi Yuugi. After Nakago threatens Tasuki and Chichiri with death if they continue to stand between him and his attempts to murder Miaka, Chichiri informs him "The sole reason for our existence is to protect the Priestess of Suzaku!" (paraphrased)

Okay, enough chatter! Time for me to get packing and get on my way! Have a great week!

Ja ne!

Roku-chan  
  


Author's Notes:   (updated edit 5-1-03)   Okay, thanks to the very kind and astute input I have received from you all, I have reworked Chapter 6 to be less confusing in the Tasuki vs. the Black Beasts ambush... well, at least I _hope_ it's less confusing! So, with Kryssa's very valuable help, I have reworked sections 3 _and_ 4 to avoid the jarring sudden switch in POV - hope it clears things up! So, thank you again, Kris, for making this chapter a little more understandable!  


Also, I wanted to set the musical selection in its proper place - yes, you got it right, Akia Starfrost, it _does_ start with Chichiri's argument with Tasuki, continuing to his diversionary dash away from Tasuki and Miaka. The wild arpeggio "swirls" represent Chichiri casting spell after spell into the sky, the final climactic arpeggio representing the cyclone devouring the creatures. Then the subsequent pounding half-note, quarter note beats represent Tasuki and Miaka's desperate dash across the open field with the black beasts bearing down on them. Whoo!! Be still, my heart! The "quiet" part is Tasuki dismounting with Miaka and telling her to shield her ki, then picking up again with the pulsing half-notes as he prepares his ambush.  


Oh, by the way... I'm baaaaaaacck!! Safe from conference and full of lobster! (among other things  ^ ~)  


  
  
  



	7. Journey to trust

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them. 

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical selection: "Journey to the West", Track 3 from the soundtrack to "Princess Mononoke" by Joe Hisaishi, copyright Milan Records and BMG, 1999.

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Chapter 7.     Journey to Trust

In the dim starlight, glowing amber eyes widened as they stared into tearful emerald depths. There was a moment of silence, in which the wind hissed and sighed desolately through the canopy branches, and then…

"C'mon, Miaka, that ain't funny, you pretendin' not to know me…"

"I don't! I don't know _you,_ I don't know this _place_, I don't know where I am or how I got here or even how you know my name! All I know is that somehow I've been transported into this waking nightmare, with flying monsters and giant horses and crazy men who keep pushing me around and telling me what to do!"

Tasuki clutched his head in frustration as enlightenment suddenly burst into his brain. "Ohhhhhh, _shit!_ Goddammit, Chichiri, you fucked up!" He howled in rage at the night sky. "She wasn't s'posed ta forget _me_, for fuck's sake! Now we're in some serious shit, an' I don't know what the hell you expect me ta _do!_ _Fuck_ it all!" 

Miaka flinched back from his heated curses, then jutted out her chin. "I thought you said that we were supposed to keep quiet! And here you are, cursing at the sky like a madman! Well, don't think that you can scare me, because I can take care of myself! Don't underestimate me just because I'm a girl!"

Tasuki repressed a sudden grin, hoping that she couldn't detect his unexpected flash of amusement. Gods, he had forgotten how feisty she could be! She sounded exactly the same as when he had first kidnapped her ten years ago. 

"Errrrrr, sorry, Mi-chan… um, I mean, Miaka. I didn't mean to scare ya; this is just th' way I talk. I wasn't tryin' ta intimidate ya."

"Good, because it wasn't working anyway!"

Brave words, thought Tasuki. Too bad that they were belied by the underlying tremor in her voice. Suddenly, something clenched in his chest at the realization that she was afraid of him. She had been afraid of him _that_ time, too, eight years ago…and with good reason. He was seized by the familiar sick feeling that gripped him each time he thought of that night, and he knew that he had to reassure her, for his sake as much as for hers. He dropped his voice and softened his tones.

"I'm glad you're not afraid of me, 'cause that'd hurt my feelings. I'm a friend of yours, Miaka…an old friend from years past. I got a lotta names, but you can call me Tasuki."

"Tasuki," Miaka repeated softly. It sounded familiar, but…"If you're such an old friend, why don't I remember you?!"

Tasuki racked his brain for an explanation that wouldn't reveal too much. "Uh, we…I mean you…had a kind of accident."

"Kind-of-accident? What kind of accident could erase memories from years ago?!"

"The same kind that keeps you from remembering how you got here. Try ta think, Miaka…do ya remember anything earlier in this day?"

Miaka tried to think, but her mind kept coming up blank. The only thing that stood out sharp in her thoughts were the razor-sharp teeth of the beasts that chased them. "All right," she conceded. "There are holes in my memory, I'll admit that. But why should I trust you? What do you intend to do with me?"

Tasuki lowered himself slowly to the ground, leaning against a tree, hoping that this non-threatening posture would ease some of her fears. "I don't intend ta do anythin' except keep hidin' out from those flyin' fuck-bastards, an' I don't see no point in stayin' awake if I'm gonna be sittin' still." He stifled a yawn, sneaking a peek at Miaka to see if she was calming down.

Miaka stood undecided for a moment, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. She clenched her teeth to stop their chattering. "Are you going to light a fire?"

Tasuki shook his head. "Can't. That'd be like puttin' up a big signal: 'Hey, if yer lookin' for us, we're right here!' We can't take the risk, Miaka. Sorry." He waited patiently for her to ask for his help, then realized that her pride was going to force her to keep standing there, her arms hugging her lightly-clad, shivering form.

"Here!" he said, shrugging out of his coat in one swift motion. "Since you're wearin' clothes that ain't helpin' ya one damn bit against the cold, why dontcha put on my coat? I'm kinda warm anyway, from all that runnin' around." He held out the heavy garment in one hand.

She approached hesitantly, shy as a wild deer. She took the coat from his hand, careful not to touch his fingers, then donned it hastily and sat down against a tree several paces from where he sat. Tasuki closed his eyes, feigning sleep and waiting to see what she would do.

Miaka huddled in the folds of the bandit coat but couldn't seem to generate enough heat from her chilled body to stop her shivers. She glanced over at Tasuki, who reclined against his tree in only his shirtsleeves with his arms tightly folded, obviously fighting the cold night air as well.

"This is stupid!" she blurted out in her usual impetuous way. 

Glowing amber eyes turned to meet hers, their expression quizzical. "What's stupid?"

"Us! We're both freezing to death when there's an obvious solution to our problem!"

"Solution?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"Listen, you said that you're my friend - a long-time friend, am I right?"

Tasuki nodded briefly, his expression and his features obscured by the darkness. Miaka frowned for a moment over the contradictory feelings that swirled dream-like through her being. She felt as if he were infinitely familiar to her, but at the same time, he frightened her in some inexplicable way. Not that it was surprising; in her present state, he was a stranger to her, so maybe it was natural for her to be wary of him…and if she let her wariness stop her, they would both freeze to death tonight. Well, at least _she_ would freeze to death. She didn't know how strong his constitution was.

She took her courage in both hands and met his patient gaze. (_Tasuki? patient?_ whispered that odd, closed-off part of her mind.) "I'm just thinking…well…uh…since we're supposed to be friends, why don't we just share the coat?"

"Share it?"

Miaka finally lost her temper. "Is that all you can do?! Repeat what I say?! You're not helping me out here at all! All I'm saying is that you should put the coat on and then I'll get right next to you, and you can wrap it around me as well, and we should generate enough body heat so that we're both…" her voice trailed off as she saw his teeth gleam in the dim light. He was laughing at her! Or leering at her…she couldn't tell which. "Look," she said stiffly. "I'm not coming onto you, I'm just trying to…"

"No, of course you're not coming onto me. You wouldn't do that." His voice was soft and reassuring and… wistful? 

No. No, why would it be? Miaka shook her head in confusion. Tasuki had fallen silent as well. Miaka lost her patience again. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"For you to give me the coat. I can't put it on if you don't take it off first." There it was; that familiar teasing note in his voice. Miaka suddenly felt reassured - yes, he was her friend, and yes, this was the right thing to do. She scooted over to him and removed the coat. He put it on quickly, then settled against the tree again, holding it open invitingly. She took a deep breath and climbed onto his lap, glad that the darkness hid her blushes. She was fairly certain that she had never done anything like this before, so…why did it feel so natural? Settling against the hardness of his muscles, resting her head against his chest, savoring the blessed warmth that flowed from him, flowing around both of them now that it was held in by the shield of his coat…it felt natural and right and oh-so-comfortable. Suddenly she yawned.

Tasuki's voice came out of the darkness above her head and also rumbled in her ear from his chest. "Oyasumi, Miaka."

"Oyasumi…" was her sleepy reply, and before she knew it, the darkness and the mists entered her mind, and she fell asleep in the warmth of their shared cocoon.

In the open meadow south of the woods where rested the seishi and his sleeping miko, a small ball of paper rolled, pushed by the icy wind. It caught on a twig, trembling in the intermittent gusts until a swirl of cold air pushed against its torn edges, popping it open. The origami bird fluttered in the wind, one tip of one wing still caught by the twig, but it vibrated briefly until it was free. The gusts swept it upwards, spinning helplessly in the currents of air, until it suddenly spread its tiny mystical wings and seized control. The origami bird rose higher into the night, circling briefly above the woods until it turned and flew due north, obeying the instructions of the spell that had created it.

  
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Miaka woke some time later, exhausted and disoriented and vaguely alarmed because her bed was moving. It was heaving up and down in intermittent jerks, and that was bad, because beds weren't supposed to move - not unless there was an earthquake. Damn! That meant that 'Kaa-san would be in here at any moment, shooing her out of bed and down the stairs, to shiver outside until the quake passed. 'Kaa-san was a real stickler for earthquake safety practices.

She swam up towards consciousness, her mind sharpening as a sound reverberated in her ear. It was muffled yet resounding, and vaguely familiar and _way_ too close…She suddenly snapped awake, the realization of where she was - and what her bed was - taking her breath away. She lay very still with her eyes wide open, staring over the edge of the coat at the trees looming in the darkness, her mind caught in a swirl of confusion and fear. What was he _doing?_ Why was he moving like this and making those sounds?! He had better not be trying anything sexual! Her pupils dilated in fear at that thought, but she calmed when she realized that his lower body remained still, only his chest jerking up and down. Was he laughing at something…and who would be stupid enough to laugh at nothing in the middle of the night?

Suddenly a sound escaped his lips, and she realized that it was a stifled sob. Once that sob escaped, others followed, slipping past his struggles to remain quiet. Miaka was mortified - it was a terrible thing to listen to a grown man cry, let alone listen with her ear pressed up against his chest. She was embarrassed for him and a little scared, and determined not to let him know that he had woken her. What was he crying about, each deep sob sounding as if it would tear him apart? Was he frightened by their predicament, his earlier courage just a show of bravado? Oh, gods, she was depending on this man to help her, but what if he was just as lost as she was?!

He sucked in a quick deep breath, making Miaka blink as she was jounced up and down. Finally she began to make out words in his agonized sobs. "Tama…oh gods, Tama…never thought you would die…" His sobs grew stronger, and he fought futilely to repress them. Miaka lay stiffly on his body, willing herself to remain still as he wept with what she finally recognized was grief and loss. More broken phrases were cast out into the darkness. "…_ever_ gonna stop? Is the shit gonna keep comin' until every last _one_ of us is dead?…and now, Chiri…I don't know even know what happened to him!" More and stronger sobs. "Ah, Tama, I thought that you would be the one to make it… gods, I'm sorry!"

Suddenly Miaka was filled with inexplicable rage. Why couldn't he just shut _up?! _What right did he have to cry, when he hadn't lost nearly as much as _she_ had?! 'Where did that thought come from?' asked her logical mind, but she wasn't feeling logical - she felt like hitting him and biting him and kicking him until he _shut up_ and stopped crying, because if he _didn't_ stop, she would start, and she would never be able to stop crying, not ever again!

Just when she thought that she couldn't take any more, he grew quiet, his sobs dying away and his chest jerking only intermittently with short sharp breaths. Miaka unclenched her fists, forcing herself to relax…when out of the darkness, she heard soft whispers, floating skyward to the stars above.

"…promise…promise I'll take care of her for ya…I promise that on my life." His hands came up and softly stroked her hair. Miaka froze in place - it couldn't be _her_ that he was talking about. It had to be someone else, because she had never belonged to anyone, certainly not anyone with a catlike name like Tama! She shivered suddenly, and Tasuki's arms tightened around her, holding her close. "Shhhh…" he whispered, "just sleep…just keep sleepin'."   


Miaka was relieved that he hadn't realized she was awake, and then felt a moment's gratitude for his warmth, her earlier rage disappearing as quickly as it had come. She felt a flash of shame at the memory of that rage, but she couldn't seem to hold onto any thought for long…everything was so warm, warm and comfortable and quiet. She snuggled deeper into that warmth, the tension leaving her body, her breaths unconsciously synchronizing with his. She rose and fell with his every breath, up and down, feeling as if she were floating in a boat gently rocked by the ocean swells, drifting deeper into the darkness…until she was asleep once more.

   
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She returned to consciousness slowly, the grey light of dawn glowing behind her closed eyelids. She was still warm but not quite as comfortable, her bladder nagging at her, needing to be relieved. Miaka yawned, still somewhat bemused by the strange dream that had possessed her through the night. She opened her eyes - and started in shock, her vision filled with the same landscape of trees as in her dream. 

"This is no dream!" She pushed up to a sitting position, taking in the sight of the silvery tree trunks and the sound of birdsong and the fresh green smell of the world around her. No dream of hers had ever been so detailed, not to mention that she was still in desperate need of a bathroom, which was typical of her normal waking routine. She shivered as she finally noticed the coat that wrapped around her. That man…that strange man…he was nowhere in sight, but he couldn't be far…

"Ohayo, Miaka." The familiar voice was suddenly right above her. Miaka blinked up at his silhouette, his face shadowed by the sun at his back. Gods, she hadn't noticed how tall he was last night! And how did he suddenly appear out of nowhere?! 

"Ohayo," Miaka replied weakly, trying not to give away her panic and disorientation. He extended a hand, and she took it, rising to her feet and brushing at her badly wrinkled skirt. Thank the gods that she was wearing the stretch bicycle pants beneath the skirt, preserving her modesty! But her modesty was doomed to be sacrificed, as her bladder tugged at her once again. "Ummm, I have to…where can I…?" She knew her face was scarlet, but he seemed to take it in stride.  


"Follow me." He turned and began to walk away from their hiding place. Miaka struggled to keep up with his long strides in her high-heeled boots, becoming breathless and finally angry. She pushed forward and caught his arm, turning him around just as the sun broke through the branches to illuminate them in full daylight.

Dear _gods_, she had never seen such a beautiful man in all her life! The sun caught the fire of his hair, making it flash and sparkle with red, orange and gold highlights. Nevertheless, as breathtaking as his hair was, it was a mere backdrop for the perfection of his face. He had an oval face with fine sculpted cheekbones, tapering into a strong chin with a slight cleft. His nose was slightly aquiline, larger than was customary in most men of her country, giving him a somewhat Western appearance…until she looked up into his large slanted eyes, fiery pools of clearest amber flecked with gold, complementing his hair. Those slanted eyes and the golden tone of his skin mixed with the Western beauty of the rest of his face gave him the exotic look of a Mongol, or perhaps a Russian from the southern steppes of that vast country. Added to that was the perfection of his form - the broad shoulders stretched beneath a blousy white silk shirt, the narrow waist tapering into slim hips and long, booted legs. He wore dangling earrings of faceted ruby and amber gems, along with three necklaces of various precious and semi-precious stones - a look that Miaka may have considered effeminate had it not been contrasted by his fiercely masculine aura and arrogant stance. Miaka had always appreciated male beauty and had laughingly ogled attractive men while Yui scolded her…but this man far surpassed any man that she had encountered in her twenty-one years! And to think that she had slept with him…_on_ him! 

Miaka felt as if her face was on fire, and she closed her mouth with an audible click. This seemed to release the man, who had stood frozen in place under her shocked stare. He suddenly flashed a wide grin at her, revealing sharply pointed canines in his sparkling white smile. The weirdness of those wolfish fangs should have frightened her but instead reassured her, as her subconscious whispered, _'Oh, yes - it's Tasuki, all right.'_

"Hey, Miaka - if I didn't believe ya earlier 'bout not remembering me, I sure believe ya now! You were lookin' at me like ya never saw me b'fore!"

Miaka swallowed in a suddenly dry mouth, trying to regain her equilibrium. "Like I said last night, I don't remember you. I'm sorry, but I…"

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it. Not your fault."

Miaka opened her mouth to ask the meaning of that remark when a sudden pressure in her bladder made her wince. "Ummmm…are we close yet? To…you know."

"Anywhere over there." He nodded at a thick tangle of shrubs slightly uphill of them. Miaka headed towards them gratefully, trying not to run. She didn't look back, trusting him to grant her privacy.

Afterwards, greatly relieved with her bladder once more subsiding into blessed silence, Miaka headed back downhill. She was regretting only the necessity of using then discarding her small pocket handkerchief - when she ran smack into Tasuki, not twenty paces away. He steadied her with one hand, but she drew back sharply, mortified and enraged.

"Do you mean that you've been standing here all the time, listening to me…?! What kind of sick pervert _are_ you?!" Her voice reached its highest pitch as she shrieked with rage and embarrassment.

Tasuki winced at the glass-shattering pitch but didn't seem the least abashed by her scolding. "Look, Miaka, I'm gonna hafta explain a few things to ya, but let's just go back and get our stuff…"

"I'm not going anywhere with you, you hentai bastard! You can just…_aieeeee!"_

Miaka shrieked as Tasuki suddenly grabbed her and hoisted her over his shoulder. She tried to scream again, but the wind was suddenly whooshing in her face, taking her breath away. Less than half a minute later, Tasuki deposited her upon the ground. Miaka gasped in shock - they were once more at their makeshift campsite. Part of her wanted to ask eagerly how he got them back there so quickly, but the other part remembered why she was so angry with him. As soon as she regained her footing, she spun and slapped him across the face.

Tasuki grabbed her arm as she was winding up for a second blow. His eyes sparked with anger, and she was suddenly afraid of him. "Okay, Miaka, you've been doin' a lot of this lately, but I figure that I've had enough. Now you're gonna calm down an' listen ta me, 'cause I ain't exaggeratin' when I tell ya that your life depends on it!"

Miaka went white with shock. "You mean that you'll kill me?" she whispered.

Tasuki flushed. "I'm not gonna kill ya, baka girl - though I figure I won't be violatin' my seishi vows too much if I turn you over my knee and give ya a few good wallops! So just shut up an' let me explain our situation here!"

Miaka's emerald eyes flashed with anger, but she bit her lip and decided to hear him out. He sat down on the ground and crossed his legs, and she unconsciously relaxed at his non-threatening posture. Tasuki seemed suddenly unsure of himself, opening his mouth and closing it again, frowning and shaking his head.

Miaka lost her patience again. "Well…I'm waiting for this brilliant explanation of why you need to peep on my bathroom habits!"

Tasuki glared at her, then came to a decision. "I guess I'd better find out what you remember first. How old are ya, Miaka?"

"If you're really my friend, aren't you supposed to know that already?!"

"Goddammit, just answer the fuckin' question! I wanna see what _you_ know, baka girl!"

Miaka felt oddly reassured by his bad temper; it made him seem more familiar to her for some reason. "Twenty-one."

"All right. Do ya remember anythin' from when you were fifteen…or sixteen?"

"Of course I remember. I was studying like crazy, trying to get into Jonan High School."

"Do ya remember anything 'bout travelin' to a different…country?"

"No, 'Kaa-san never took us anywhere. We didn't have a lot of money, and she was saving it for our tuition…"

"Not with your mom. Do ya remember anythin' 'bout travelin' somewhere with Yui?"

"No." Miaka stared at Tasuki. "How do you know Yui?"

"Met her 'bout the same time that I met you. When you were fifteen and came to my…country."

Miaka frowned, a dim memory floating weakly to the surface of her mind. She suddenly had an image of Tasuki, somewhere under flashing lights, pumping his hips at Yui as she wildly gyrated her backside at him. She flushed, embarrassed by the raw sexuality of that image and feeling strangely jealous…but triumph won out as she began to piece together her forgotten past. "I remember now! You're Yui's boyfriend!"

Tasuki clasped his head in his hands. "No, I'm not Yui's boyfriend! I barely know her!"

"Didn't look like it from what I remember," muttered Miaka to herself.

Tasuki tried again. "Look, we're not gettin' anywhere this way. I'm just gonna hafta tell ya a few things, and I'm gonna ask ya to trust me."

"I might trust you more if you stopped lying to me."

Tasuki stared at Miaka. "Whaddaya mean?"

"I mean that you can stop trying to convince me that I'm in another country. Obviously I was a lot more gullible when you knew me at age fifteen, but I'm not that stupid anymore! I've studied many things about many countries while I was in school, and I can tell you that there's no such thing as flying dragon-monsters nor flame-shooting fans that are triggered with strange incantations. Not on Earth, anyway. I know that I'm in some different world…maybe even in an alternate universe."

Tasuki blinked. He hadn't expected her to be so perceptive, but then again, she wasn't fifteen anymore nor was she distracted by her endless obsession with Tamahome. Of course, part of her knowledge might stem from subconscious memories of the ShiJinTenChiSho, but he had no doubt that she was also far more mature and intelligent than the girl he used to tease and call "stupid." Now that he thought about it, he had seen this intelligence and maturity blooming in her when she had come to the ShiJin at age sixteen…when he had begun to realize that he loved her… Tasuki pushed that thought away firmly. Time to get back to their present reality.

"Okay, Miaka, I'm not gonna lie to ya anymore. You're right, we're in a different world - a world where those goddamn flyin' monsters wanna kill us both. Worse than that, they've got plenty of human accomplices ready to help 'em out. So listen up: the only way that you an' me are gonna make it through is if we stick together, an' by that, I mean _all_ th' time. Now I know a hell of a lot more 'bout my world than you do, an' I can tell ya that a man or woman is most vulnerable when they got their pants down for any reason. I've seen too many corpses with their pants around their ankles to argue that fact. So when I stayed close by ya, it was ta protect ya, not 'cause I'm some kinda pervert who gets off on stuff like that!" 

Tasuki took in Miaka's flushed face and knew that his countenance was equally as red. "So look, I don't like this any more than you do, but the fact is that we're gonna hafta watch out for each other at these vulnerable moments, an' that means you lookin' out for me as well. In other words, we're gonna hafta be closer than brother an' sister whether we like it or not!" He softened his voice, trying to ease her humiliation; a humiliation that he knew he was going to share. "Look, I grew up with five sisters, so girl stuff ain't exactly new ta me. An' I know that you got an older brother, so maybe guy stuff ain't such a big mystery ta you either. We're just gonna hafta accept that we're both human an' leave it at that."

Miaka finally lifted her eyes to meet Tasuki's gaze. "So you are…human, then?"

Tasuki closed his eyes. "That one really hurt, Miaka."

She flushed and stammered. "I didn't mean it that way! I just meant that since you're from a different world, maybe we have different ancestries… And you move so fast! No one in my world can move as fast as you do!"

Tasuki finally grinned. "Ah, well, I'm human, but maybe I'm just a little…enhanced. Speed is just one of my seishi powers."

"Seishi powers?"

Tasuki hesitated, then plunged ahead. He was certain that Chichiri would call this "need-to-know" information. "Okay, Miaka, I'm gonna keep this as simple as possible. My world is called the ShiJinTenChiSho, or the Universe of the Four Gods. The Four Gods are Genbu, Byakko, Seiryuu, and Suzaku, and I got special abilities 'cause I'm a Suzaku no shichiseishi, which means celestial warrior of Suzaku. You're the Suzaku no Miko, Priestess of Suzaku, and for some reason, those flyin' monsters are invadin' our worlds and tryin' ta kill all the seishi and priestesses." 

"That's stupid! How can I be the Priestess of Suzaku when I'm not even from Suzaku's world?!"

"All the priestesses are from your world…you and Yui and…"

"Yui?! Now I know that you're lying! Yui would never believe in something like this!"

"I'm not lyin,' an' after all th' shit that she's seen, Yui believes plenty!"

Miaka paled. "You said that these creatures are after all the priestesses. So does that mean that Yui-chan is in danger, too?!"

"Yeah…but she's got Tetsuya and Keisuke looking after her, an' hopefully we'll get a message to the right people to send some of our seishi there to help her as well."

"Keisuke?!" Miaka was nearly overwhelmed with trying to visualize her friends and family in the roles of priestesses and protectors. But maybe it wasn't so far-fetched - she could easily picture Keisuke enthusiastically joining in the adventure. He had always been the one with the exciting shonen manga that she used to steal and read. Even when she read shoujo manga, Miaka had preferred the more adventurous types from artists like Takahashi-san and Watase-san. 

However, what finally convinced Miaka was the fact that as Tasuki spoke, she felt the truth of his words reverberating deep within her, just as she had sensed that he was lying earlier. 

"All right!" Miaka made one of her swift and sudden reversals, from skeptic to believer in a nanosecond. "So what's our mission, and when do we begin?!"

Tasuki blinked, taken aback at her sudden capitulation. A grin crossed his face as he remembered her take-charge attitude when she had decided to restore his position as the leader of the Mount Reikaku bandits. "Well, _my_ mission is to get you to safety, to a place we call the Refuge, an' after that, Taiitsukun will let me know what I hafta do next. And when we begin is right now, after we've had some breakfast."

Miaka's face brightened momentarily at the mention of food but darkened as she recalled his earlier words. "Wait a minute. What if I don't feel like being stashed away somewhere? What if I order you to take me back to my world, so that we can help Yui-chan and Onii-chan and the rest?"

Tasuki's eyes narrowed. "You can order whatever ya want, but it ain't gonna happen. You ain't the one callin' the shots here, Miaka."

"Why not?! Aren't you one of my warriors? Don't you have to obey me?!"

Tasuki snorted with laughter. "Shit, no! A fine cocked-up mess we'd be in if I hadda listen ta _you!_ My sworn duty is to protect your headstrong little ass, an' that's exactly what I'm gonna do! So you're gonna hafta follow _my_ orders or pay the consequences!"

"Consequences?" Miaka was incensed. "What can you do to me, since you're sworn to protect me?!"

"Well, I can paddle your behind like I mentioned earlier, since the gods don't consider that to be a grievous injury to your essential being, orrrrrrrr…I can just send ya to bed without supper, which I know that _you_ would consider to be a grievous injury!"

Miaka pouted, chagrined at how well he knew her. Tasuki got to his feet slowly, dusting off his breeches and restraining himself from grabbing her and kissing that adorable pout right off those full, sulky lips. He sighed softly, reminding himself that whether she remembered it or not, she was the newly widowed bride of one of his best friends. Not to mention that if he tried anything, she would probably slap him straight to the South Konan Sea.

Suddenly he found himself the object of a sly peek from beneath her lashes, a mischievous grin replacing the tempting pout. "Didn't I hear you say something about breakfast?"

   
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Miaka stared in dismay at the small pile of grain in her palm. She could make out some type of wheat along with oats and a grain that was unfamiliar to her, but…she had always disliked granola. Not to mention that there was barely enough here for her to decide whether she liked the taste or not! It certainly wasn't enough to fill her complaining belly!

She looked up to see Tasuki removing the saddle and bags that rested on his giant black horse. Right after her request for breakfast, he had walked a short distance into the trees and began whistling in a series of bursts of varying pitch. Not one minute later, Makaze had appeared silent and ghost-like between the trees, impressing Miaka with the ability of an animal of his size to move so quietly. Tasuki had produced a small leather bag from one of the saddlebags and poured "breakfast" into Miaka's hand, then turned back to his horse.

Tasuki finally became aware of Miaka's silent regard, and he turned to meet her frown. "What's the matter, Miaka? Need some water?" He proffered a leather canteen.

"No! I mean yes, but what I really need is some REAL food! This looks like your horse's breakfast! Don't you have any rice or dried fish or pickles or…?" She trailed off at his raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, Miaka, but we're travelin' a fair distance over the next few days, an' I don't know this country well enough ta know when we'll be able ta get more food. So I figured that we'd better ration ourselves carefully right from the start. I kept your breakfast small, but I figure that you probably ate a good-sized dinner last night, so that oughta hold you for awhile. You're bound ta get more hungry as we start moving faster an' ya hafta burn more energy. Anyhow, that grain is a lot more fillin' than it looks."

Miaka scowled ungratefully and stalked off to sit in a grassy patch with her grain and water. 'I feel like a horse!' she thought to herself as she chewed morosely on the hard kernels, washing them down with sips of fresh spring water from the canteen. She watched Tasuki brush Makaze's coat carefully, removing twigs and burrs and checking his hooves for stones. She sat up in outrage as she saw Tasuki slip half of a dried apple to Makaze. 'I take that back! I'm not anywhere _near_ as lucky as a horse! I wish that he treated me half as well as he treats that animal!' She fumed in silence, refusing to look up at him when he reappeared at her side. 

"Hey, Miaka, how're ya doin'? Still hungry?"

"Yes!" she huffed, although when she thought about it, the grain really had satisfied the worst of her cravings.

"Here." He slipped the other half of the dried apple into her hand. Miaka stared at it, suddenly ashamed of her bad temper. However, Tasuki obviously took her silence for dissatisfaction, taking her hand and pouring another measure of the grain mix into her palm. "Maybe I shouldn't try to ration you too much before you're used to it. Don't worry, we're sure ta find more food as we go."

Miaka looked up at him, her cheeks flushed with shame. "I'm sorry. I was very rude. I just…"

"Nah, don't worry." The fanged grin flashed into view, lighting up his features. "If there's anything I know about you, Mi-chan, I better not get between you an' your food!"

She couldn't help grinning back at him. Yes, Tasuki had a quick temper, but his default mood was sunny high spirits and his good humor was always contagious. And how did she know this about him? "More repressed memories, I guess," she mumbled to herself.

He went back to grooming Makaze, so Miaka ate as much of the remaining grain as she could comfortably hold. Tasuki had been right - it _was_ filling, but now she was too embarrassed to tell him that she couldn't finish her extra ration. She got up and wandered over to Makaze, pushing back her fear as she stared up at the huge horse. A large dark eye rolled in her direction, so she lifted her trembling hand, proffering the extra grain on her open palm. Makaze tossed his head once, flattening his ears…then pricked them up again. He lowered his nose to her palm, snuffling gently, then delicately lifted his lips and nibbled at the grain until it was gone. Miaka stood transfixed. She was unfamiliar with such huge beasts…and now she was enchanted by him. Makaze lowered his head to her empty hand, and she reached up and scratched at his forelock. He stretched his neck out in bliss and let a shudder of pleasure course through his body. 

Tasuki looked up from where he had been examining Makaze's rear hooves and gasped in alarm. "Watch out, Miaka! Makaze don't take to strangers much, an' he 'specially dislikes girls…" His voice trailed off as Makaze lowered his head yet more so that Miaka could scratch behind his ears. The horse blew out a contented breath, giving the equine equivalent of a goofy grin.

Miaka grinned over at Tasuki. "You were saying?"

"Nothin'!" Tasuki thumped Makaze's flanks hard as Miaka continued to coo at the big horse, scratching all around his head and neck. The seishi muttered under his breath. "Makin' me look like a fool, ya great big poof! Whatcha gonna do next for her - roll over an' beg?!"

Makaze turned his head and fixed Tasuki with a big brown stare. Tasuki snorted at the horse's seemingly ironic regard. "Yeah, guess I got no room ta talk, huh? Jus' gave her my breakfast, an' if I know Miaka, I'm gonna hafta hand over my lunch as well!" Miaka didn't catch Tasuki's remarks, still caught up in the wonder of stroking the mane of the black stallion.

Tasuki finally put away the curry brush and stretched. "Okay, 'Kaze's all cleaned up, so it's our turn. Grab the canteens, Miaka, we're goin' to th' spring." He turned, grabbed one of the smaller saddlebags and strode off uphill into the trees. Miaka grabbed her canteen and a larger one that rested on the saddlebags and took off running after Tasuki. It was a short but breathless jaunt to a good-sized spring, the sparkling clear water murmuring as it bubbled up from its underground source. 

Tasuki didn't waste any time, whipping off his shirt and dipping a battered metal pitcher into the water, pouring the ice-cold water over his head. He shivered and shouted, laughing, while Miaka stood transfixed for the second time that morning. The long, lean lines of the muscles in his back and shoulders, the drops of water glistening on his golden skin…

"Hey, Miaka! She who hesitates gets ta be a smelly dustball for th' rest of th' day… I ain't spendin' all day here waitin' for ya!"

Miaka jumped, startled by his shout. The water looked icy cold, but one quick sniff of her shirt and a hand passed through her dusty locks made the decision for her. She whipped off her own shirt, exposing her bra, and grabbed the pitcher from his hand, scooping up some spring water and pouring over her head in one swift motion. She screamed at the icy cold deluge but ended up joining in Tasuki's laughter as they passed the pitcher back and forth. He handed her a little net bag with herbs and small pieces of soap, and she scrubbed it over her upper body, reveling in the scent of sandalwood as it washed over her. 'So that's why he smells so good,' she thought to herself, pleased for some odd reason at sharing his scent.

Tasuki turned and removed an item from his small saddlebag, handing it hesitantly to Miaka. Miaka was stunned to see that it was an exquisite ivory toothbrush, with a phoenix carved into the handle and bleached and softened boar bristles embedded in the head. "This is beautiful!" she gasped, honest as always.

He blushed at her compliment for the frivolously expensive item. "Yeah…I got it as a gift from th' Emperor. That shavin' kit is one thing I'll never sell - that and Makaze, of course."

"The Emperor?!" gasped Miaka, turning the toothbrush over and over to admire all the intricate carving.

"Yeah, but that's not why I value th' kit. He was a brother seishi an' a good friend, though I didn't always appreciate him."

Miaka suddenly stopped and stared off into space. She saw dark golden eyes, brimming with kindness and compassion; long, lustrous chestnut hair; features so exquisite that they put the most beautiful women of his harem to shame; all overlaid by a bittersweet feeling of melancholy… "Hotohori," she breathed.

Now it was Tasuki's turn to jump. "What?! You told me that you didn't remember nothin'! What kinda game are you playin' with me?!" His eyes blazed with anger.

Miaka's eyes opened wide. "I'm not playing any game! It was just for a moment, after you mentioned the Emperor, I could see his face and remember his name - and I don't know why!"

Tasuki calmed immediately, remembering Chichiri's hasty explanation of Miaka's fragmented memories. "Sorry I snapped at ya, Miaka…ya just startled me there." His voice dropped. "An' I guess I was mad that you remembered Hotohori with just a word, when you don't remember nothin' about me... an' I'm right here in front of you."

Miaka sensed the hurt behind his words and realized that she was wrong to keep her revelations to herself. "Listen, Tasuki, I do remember things about you. I remember that you get mad very easily but you don't carry a grudge, and also that you're usually pretty happy and cheerful. At least you used to be…" she amended, looking at his scowl. She made one more effort to appease him. "That's why I trusted you so soon after meeting up again." She gave him a mischievous smile. "That and the fact that you didn't rape me last night."

Her words had the opposite effect she was hoping for. Tasuki went dead white, his color paling until she thought that he was going to become ill. He swallowed hard, his eyes wide and shocked as his breaths came short and sharp.

"What is it?!" cried Miaka. "What's wrong?!"

"Why did you say that?" he choked, his voice hoarse. "What made you think that I would…"

"I didn't!" Miaka cried, terrified at his stricken demeanor. "I didn't mean to say that you would ever…I just made a stupid joke to show you that I trusted you! I didn't mean anything by it, I swear it, Tasuki! Please stop looking at me that way!" For some reason, his agonized stare made her heart ache.

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and struggling for control. Finally he regained it, lifting his trembling hands from his knees and unclenching his fists. Miaka watched him through tear-filled eyes, biting her lip. He opened his eyes again, a world of pain reflected in their depths. Miaka couldn't help it - her tears spilled over as she sobbed helplessly.

"Please don't hate me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm always blurting out stupid things! I never meant to say something that awful to you! You're my only friend in this world, and I don't know what I'll do if you hate me!" Suddenly she felt herself gathered into his strong arms, her face pressed against the warm, hard muscles of his chest.

"Shhhh, Mi-chan, don't cry. Ya know that I can't stand it when ya cry. I don't hate you, I never could. And it's not you who has to apologize."

"Yes, it is!" Miaka sobbed with remorse and relief…and with the release of all her fears of the night before. "I've been nothing but selfish and nasty since we first arrived, and you've done nothing but look after me, even though your own heart is breaking over the death of your friend!" He grew very still under her clutching hands, and Miaka flinched as she realized that she had done it yet again.

"So ya heard that last night, huh?"

Miaka nodded against his chest, too ashamed to meet his gaze. She heard him sigh very softly.

"Sorry that I put ya through that, Miaka. But listen, I got a question for ya…"

She felt his hands lift her away from his chest, then a long finger was placed under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with some unfathomable emotion. "Can you remember the name of my friend?"

Miaka nodded slowly. "Tama."

Tasuki looked keenly into her face. "That name mean anything to ya? Does it make ya…feel anything?"

Miaka searched her mind, but the only image she could summon was blank, white, filled with swirling white mists. She shook her head…but suddenly remembered that strange flash of rage she had felt while Tasuki was crying. No. No, that still didn't tell her anything, and she was damned if she was going to make Tasuki feel any worse by blurting out another stupid, hurtful thing.

"Miaka?"

"No," she replied. "It means nothing…I feel nothing."

He sighed again, but she couldn't tell if it was with disappointment or relief. 

Miaka suddenly realized that she was seated on his lap, wearing a wet and probably transparent bra, grasping at the smooth hard muscles of his chest. She flushed bright red and scrambled off him, at the same time trying to act casual and unselfconscious. "Would you happen to have any toothpaste?" she inquired, waving the toothbrush in his direction while placing one arm across her breasts.

He absently handed her a small tin, still lost in thought. Miaka peered inside the tin to see a white powder, in which intermingled crumbled bits of dried leaves and tiny white blossoms. She sniffed at the powder - it smelled of mint and jasmine. She touched the tip of one finger to the powder and brought it to her tongue, tasting it. Miaka made a face; it was salty, probably made from a base of sodium bicarbonate, but at least the mint and jasmine gave it a fresh zing.

"Well, let's finish up here, since we've got a lot to do before we're ready to hit the road." Tasuki waited patiently for her to finish brushing her teeth, then casually took the toothbrush from her and used it himself. Miaka blushed again while she rinsed her mouth with the spring water; it was almost infuriating, the way that he was oblivious to the intimacy implied in using the same toothbrush. 'Well, it is _his_ toothbrush, after all,' reminded the fair, logical part of her brain. One part of her acknowledged that logic, but the other part remained unreasonably irritated that he wasn't sneaking any peeks at her nearly exposed breasts. Not that she _wanted_ him leering at her, but…this total lack of interest made her feel like a non-woman.

Meanwhile, Tasuki busied himself with repacking the saddlebag, carefully avoiding any glances at the damp and tempting curves of her bewitching femininity. "Down, boy!" he scolded himself mentally, forcing away the memory of how she had curled so softly against him just a few moments earlier. She already had subconscious fears of him raping her - that thought killed the desire in him in one swift blow - and if he made one inappropriate move toward her, she would probably disappear into the woods in another one of her hare-brained escape attempts. He had too many bad memories from their first adventures together of the way that she would blindly run off straight into trouble, and he didn't know if her increased maturity had cured her of that disastrous habit. 

In any case, he would have to gain her trust, since he was about to handle her body at a level of intimacy that surpassed any contact that had occurred between them thus far. _Except for that one time_, whispered the cruel and taunting part of his mind, making him shudder. He closed off that part of his mind and turned to make his way back down the hill, trusting her to follow him.

   
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Miaka stared at Tasuki, then swallowed. "My hair?"

He nodded, his expression closed and grim.

She drew in a long breath, remembering her earlier resolve to unprotestingly follow his directives to atone for her previous thoughtless actions. In fact, she had jokingly told herself that she would obey him even if he commanded her to strip naked and paint herself purple. The bottom line was that if she trusted him to guide her to safety, she had better follow his advice. _All_ of his advice. Anyway, some small part of her had always wondered how she would look…

"All right!" Her voice was firm and cheerful. "Let's do it!"

Tasuki raised his ivory-handled razor and circled behind her. He lifted her hair and caught the long locks in a firm grip, then swept the blade across in one clean motion. Miaka felt a weight lift from the nape of her neck - a familiar weight that she had carried for many years. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as she listened to the light hiss of the blade as it danced through her hair again and again, trimming the razor-shortened strands. Finally it stopped, and a small ivory-handled mirror was thrust into her hands. Miaka opened her eyes slowly, then fearfully lifted the mirror to her face.

She looked…cute. _Really_ cute. Her auburn locks blew about her temples in short curving waves, the hair curling now that it was released from the weight of its previous length. Her hair was short and boyish, giving her face a slightly androgynous gamine charm. Miaka's eyes widened when she thought about how jealous Yui would be if she could see her now! She turned and grinned up at her stylist. "I like it!"

Tasuki looked up from staring down at the long length of auburn tresses that he still grasped in one hand. He had the strangest expression on his face…if Miaka didn't know better, she would think that he was more upset by the loss of her hair than she was. He shot her a funny, crooked grin. "Glad you like it, Miaka. Listen, I gotta get rid of this hair; ya know, destroy the evidence in case anybody's trackin' us." He turned and walked off into the woods, stopping only to snatch up his coat. Miaka waited, then heard a distant "Rlekka Shin'en!" Moments later, the faint acrid odor of burning hair reached her, and she wrinkled her nose, absently using Tasuki's shaving brush to dust off the short bristles of shorn hair sticking to her face and throat. Tasuki reappeared shortly thereafter, his expression once more closed and unfathomable as he laid his coat carefully upon the ground.

He fished around in the larger saddlebag, finally producing a roll of gauzy cloth. When he unwound it, Miaka saw that it stretched for several meters. Tasuki came up behind her once more. "Take off your shirt, Miaka…and that undergarment thingy you wear." Miaka flushed but remembered their ultimate purpose. She obeyed him, keeping her back turned modestly toward him as she reached a hand back to unhook her bra. Tasuki absentmindedly observed her actions. "So that's how you remove that thing…" he thought, remembering his struggles with it…Damn it! He was getting too goddamn obsessed with that night, and he had better bring his mind back to the present if he hoped to effectively protect her! Setting his teeth, he dropped the cloth so that it hung before her. "Put the middle part across your…chest and hold it there."

Once she held it in place, he crossed the material behind her back and gently tightened it. "Let me know if that's too tight, Miaka; we gotta make it as tight as we can, but ya still gotta be able to breathe easily. So listen - inhale deeply and hold it, pushing your belly out as far as you can." She nodded and obeyed him. Tasuki wrapped her firmly in the length of cloth, passing it across her chest a few more times. He turned a critical eye on his handiwork, then placed a couple of soft cloth pads at her waist, holding them in place with more turns of the length of gauze. Finally he was satisfied, fastening the gauze with a pin. He handed her one of his shirts, rolling up the sleeves to expose her hands, then once she was dressed, he handed her the mirror.   


Miaka passed it up and down, looking carefully at her newly flattened chest and shapeless body. She shot a distressed glance at Tasuki. "I look fat!" she wailed.

Tasuki laughed out loud. "Nah, ya don't look fat - ya just look like a slightly pudgy fifteen-year-old boy. Baby fat, that's all!"

"But why do I have to have these pads at my waist?!"

"Because ya got a little too much…" Tasuki cupped his hands in front of his chest, "an' ya got a woman's…" he made a curving motion at his hips, "an' that means that if you're gonna pass as a boy, your waist hasta match up with those two parts. Guys don't have tiny waists above wide hips, Miaka."

Miaka suppressed a smile at Tasuki's unconscious gestures of grasping at her female parts. Maybe he wasn't as indifferent to her femininity as he pretended to be. Of course, she didn't exactly look female anymore, so he probably wasn't going to succumb to temptation any time in the foreseeable future. _'Stop it!_' she scolded herself silently. 'Stop obsessing over whether or not he finds you attractive - the point is to get out of this alive!'

"Okay, now it's my turn," Tasuki announced. He pulled a small glass bottle from his bag, holding it up to the light. Miaka could see a brownish-black viscous fluid swirling gently against the glass. Tasuki frowned at the small amount, then pulled out his bandit headscarf, tying it firmly around his long hair and pushing his bangs up into the material. Nearly all of his hair was hidden, except for the brilliant red hair at his cheekbones. He carefully withdrew the stopper of the bottle and used the tiny attached brush to coat the exposed red hair with the dark fluid. To Miaka's amazement, his sideburns turned a rich dark brown. The newly darkened hair along with his black headscarf made him look as if he had dark brownish-black hair. "This stuff washes out after a few days," he explained casually, "so I can't use too much at one time. Gotta keep the headscarf on whenever we're around people."

Tasuki took one last glance in his mirror, then surveyed Miaka in satisfaction. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that anyone huntin' for a red-haired warrior escorting a fragile young woman would pass us by without a second glance! Okay, then, there's just one last step before we're ready to go…an' that's our names. Your name is a girl's name, of course, whereas 'Tasuki'…well, that's the name of a celestial warrior or a constellation, an' most people recognize it that way. So from now on, you hafta call me 'Genrou'…an' I'll answer ta that easily, since it's my bandit name anyway."

"Genrou," breathed Miaka. "I remember that name! Genrou, the Phantom Wolf of Mount Reikaku."

Tasuki grinned. "Okay, that makes up for you remembering Hotohori first! You're right - that was the name I had when ya first met me on Mount Reikaku!"

Miaka beamed back at him, pleased that she had finally made him happy. "And my name?"

"Well, since you're gonna be my little brother, we'll call you 'Mikirou', 'Miki' for short, which is close enough to Miaka so hopefully you'll answer to that as well."

"All right then, if I'm Miki-chan, do I get to I call you Gen-chan?" Her laughing green eyes gazed up into his.

Tasuki caught his breath, suddenly overcome by bittersweet memories, some of which danced just out of his reach.

Miaka frowned at the faraway look in his eyes. "Did I say something wrong again?"

"No…no, ya didn't. You used to call me that sometimes, back in th' old days…ya picked it up from someone who called me that all th' time, just ta tease me. It really pissed me off if anybody else used that name, but somehow I didn't mind it if it was you…or him."

Her voice was soft and sympathetic. "Was it…Tama?"

"No…I mean, yeah, Tama would call me that jus' ta get on my nerves, an' then we would get in a brawl. But it was another one of my seishi brothers who named me that."

"Tell me about the rest of your seishi brothers." Miaka's face was open and curious.

Tasuki glanced down at her hopeful expression, then shook his head regretfully. "Sorry, Miaka, I can't."

"Why not?"

"'Cause there's a reason that ya don't remember stuff, an' it's not good for ya if I start forcin' your memories back too soon."

"What reason?!" Her tone was becoming mutinous.

"Sorry, but I can't tell ya that either. You're just gonna hafta trust me on this, Miaka."

She bit her lip, forcing back the resentment. Once again, it came down to a question of trust. _Did_ she trust him? Miaka searched her heart, seeking out some subconscious answer to that question. All she found was a series of conflicting feelings: she looked up to him; he protected her; despite his anger and threats, he hadn't tried to harm her…_Hadn't he?_ whispered some dark, closed-off part of her mind. No, he hadn't! He had behaved honorably…at times aggravating her with his unyielding sense of honor.   


Most of all, she needed him.

Miaka made her decision, staring resolutely into his amber eyes. "All right, then…I trust you."

A brief flicker of some strong emotion flashed through those eyes but disappeared before she could identify it. "Arigato goziemashita, Miko-sama." Tasuki's voice was low, the bandit accent replaced with the purest court language as he gave a short bow to match his oddly formal words. "I will do my best to deserve that trust."

   
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Several hours later, two figures on horseback cantered up a small hill overlooking the vast open plains below. Their silhouettes were black against the brilliant scarlet, amber and indigo of the evening sky. They gazed down at a ribbon of brilliant gold reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. 

"That's the North Road through Hokkan," explained the figure of the dark man. 

"But we're not taking it?" questioned the boyish figure mounted behind him, clad in baggy, overlarge clothes.

"Nope, too obvious. We're headin' that way," the man pointed due west, "then veerin' northwest, eventually doublin' back ta join the road further north of here. We're gonna take our chances on the western steppes of Hokkan before we cut back toward the mountains in th' north. So whaddaya think, Mikirou? Are ya up for another hour's ride, chasin' th' last of th' day?"

The boy groaned, shifting his weight in the saddle. "As if you would listen to me even if I said no. All right, Genrou, let's keep going - I have no feeling left from the waist down anyway!"

The man laughed heartily as the giant horse plunged down the hill, carrying its two riders toward the brilliant western sky.

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Glossary of Japanese terms:

Oyasumi - Good night

Ohayo - Good Morning; Hello  


Shonen manga - manga (Japanese comics) that is written for a young male audience. Shonen often involves graphic violence, robots (mecha), martial arts battles...  


Shoujo manga - manga (Japanese comics) that is written for a young female audience. Shoujo usually involves character relationships and less "action."  


Arigato goziemashita, Miko-sama - Thank you very much, Lady Priestess (formal)

Author's note: (7-23-03) Hello again, minna. It's been a long time since I was back at this fic…but not long enough for the "Bridge" fans! (ducks flying objects hurled by readers anxious to find out the resolution of the latest "Bridge" cliffhanger). I think that I've also ticked off the "Casting Stones" fans. (ducks rotten fruit hurled by the "captive audience" in the CS theatre.)

Here's the thing: like "White Stones" before it, "Hidden Paths" plays like a movie in my mind, and it nags at me constantly. This time the muse took over for three straight days, and the end result is this chapter. I also should apologize for the extreme wordiness and lengthy dialogue exchanges - yes, I know that the best authors get their ideas across in few words and concise presentation of ideas. However, I never claimed to be the best…in fact, I'm acting in this chapter as a screenwriter more than an author, painstakingly detailing every conversation between Tasuki and Miaka as if I were about to shoot each scene on film. If you really think about it, the dialogue flies by if you picture it as spoken instead of read…ah, enough excuses! If you're reading this, you made it to the end, so you have my congratulations!

This was also an exclusively Tasuki-Miaka chapter. Well, that _is_ the central storyline, but it's far from being the only storyline in this huge undertaking. I _had_ intended this chapter to close with the final destination of the surviving origami bird, but this chapter was too long as is, so I'm saving the "attack on Mount Crystal" scene for the next chapter. A-ha! Sneak Previews of What-Is-To-Come! (I just _love_ doin' this! ^ ~)

The next thing that may have made the HP faithful readers squirm is my (unprecedented, I think) attention to certain…, er, human realities of traveling through the outdoors, especially a man and woman together. I can't really explain why I chose this path…but there are important plot points ahead that will play off these realities. Rest assured, though, that I intend to stay away from excruciatingly scatological details - I'm dealing in human relationships here, not biological sciences!

So yeah, there are a lot of "criticizable" elements in this chapter - but go ahead and let me have it! I can take it, folks…just remember, I did promise you a bumpy ride!

Till next time!

   
Ja ne!

Roku-chan  


  
Quick update (3-19-04):  In response to a question posed by Kryssa - yes, Kryssa, they _did_ have toothbrushes in ancient China. In fact, as in just about EVERYTHING that I've researched so far, the toothbrush_ originated_ in ancient China. Its invention was credited to an emperor who cleaned his teeth with a small brush that consisted of boar bristles attached to a bone handle. I've had Hotohori change the handle to ivory, but other than that, Tasuki's toothbrush is authentic.  


The toothbrush was quickly adopted by the people of ancient China, down to the lowliest peasants. However, those peasants usually could afford only one toothbrush per household, so all of the family members had to wait in line to use it. Thus, Tasuki's lack of hesitation at using his toothbrush after Miaka - he probably had to wait until each of his five sisters were through with it, so the sharing of the toothbrush is not an intimate act to him at all.  


As for the tooth powder - the only information I could find mentioned that early tooth powder often consisted of a salt base. I softened it a bit to sodium bicarbonate and added the jasmine and mint that the Chinese used to flavor their tea.  


So there! Aren't you glad that your devoted author spends so much time researching such minutiae for her stories? Vive l'Internet!  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Metamorphosis

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them. 

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Special Note: Due to the increased action throughout the ShiJinTenChiSho, Earth, and certain otherworldly sites, some chapters (such as this one) will have location headings to let you know exactly where the action is taking place. Think of it as jumping from scene to scene in a movie - which is exactly the way this story plays through my mind.  
  


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 **  
Chapter 8.       Metamorphosis**

**Part I.      Mount Gyokuei**    (**Crystal Mountain)**

In an icy mountain range in North Hokkan, in a landscape lit only by the brilliant stars in the sky, a tiny paper bird fluttered around a jagged peak. The origami bird tried again and again to penetrate the mystical barrier but was blown aside by unseen forces. Finally it flew high up above its target, folded its wings and plunged downward toward the mountaintop like a tiny dart. Its creator had crafted it skillfully, for the bird breached the barrier, shooting through a mystical keyhole like a tiny arrow.

It banked and turned through the twisting, crystal-studded passageways, seeking out the intended recipient of its message. Just as it approached a deep inner chamber, it spun briefly out of control, buffeted by the air displaced by the rapid passage of a flying blue-haired girl.

The origami bird righted itself and flew inside the chamber, hovering near a statue of a white tiger as it waited for the optimal moment to approach its target. That target floated agitatedly over a raised dais, her distress signaled by the snaking of her ribbons in random, jerky patterns.

"So the message telling of this sudden massing of those creatures came from the monks of Seiryuu, is that correct, Nyan?"

"Yes, Taiitsukun-sama!" cried the blue-haired girl, briefly dividing into two identical girls, then rejoining as she regained control. "They say they detected a huge energy surge originating at a point in Southern Hokkan, growing in intensity until it suddenly dispersed, almost as if it exploded! They were able to piece together the energy residues this morning, and that was when they deduced that it was from approximately a score or more of the beasts. They also detected a faint trace of dark sorcery."

"Perhaps Seiryuu was correct in his decision regarding that monk from his eastern monastery. I had my doubts about that young man, but we obviously owe this valuable information to his organization." Taiitsukun's hooded eyes flashed as a thought occurred to her. "Wait! Southern Hokkan...dark sorcery - wasn't that the crossover point for Chichiri and Tasuki to the mikos' world?!"

Nyan paled, her blue tresses lightening to almost white. "Yes…and we've been waiting for word from Chichiri-sama. They should have returned by now…"

"Curse it all to the Seven Hells!!" swore Taiitsukun, shocking Nyan with her vivid impression of a certain fire-haired seishi. "We may not have been the only ones waiting for their return! What if the Enemy had somehow found the crossover point and planned an ambush?! _Damn_ the necessity of this crystal-covered refuge! The Enemy may not be able to find us, but we are equally handicapped in our ability to see out!"

At that moment, the origami bird fluttered down from its perch on Byakko's nose and landed in Taiitsukun's lap. Taiitsukun lifted the paper with shaking hands, as it flashed and sparkled with its mystical message. She turned stricken eyes to Nyan's worried face. "I was right," she rasped. "This is a message from Chichiri calling for help. He, Tasuki and Miaka were under attack by those creatures last night! Chichiri intended to follow those creatures to their base, but he sent Tasuki and Miaka fleeing through the woods."

"What about Tamahome-sama?" asked Nyan fearfully.

Taiitsukun met her guardian's gaze, her aged eyes filled with sudden grief. "Dead. Dead in their world, another victim of these accursed beasts, his ki vanishing like all the rest."

Nyan lowered her head, tears escaping from her eyes.

"There is no time to grieve, Nyan. Chichiri also begs help for Yui-sama and her friends, who are under attack in their own world. We must decide whom to send…Hatsui and Urumiya are already out on their mission to raise a resistance force against the Enemy and to check on the elderly Genbu seishi. Chichiri, Tasuki and Miaka are all missing, but we must hope that they escaped the ambush and are now fleeing through Hokkan. I will send a message telling all of the adult seishi to be on the lookout for them and render them such aid as they are able." Taiitsukun refolded the origami bird, imbuing it with a new message and new destinations, then waved her hand abruptly. The single bird multiplied into six separate birds, each shivering as the spell took hold. Nyan scooped them up and tossed them towards the ceiling. They fluttered briefly before swirling on mystical updrafts, winging through the corridors of the caverns on their new missions.

Taiitsukun turned back toward Nyan. "Perhaps we can get word to Byakko no Toroki and Byakko no Kokie to return here…" She paused as a few crystals fell onto her dress. Both Taiitsukun and Nyan looked up at the low ceiling…and that was when they heard the first resounding 'boom.' "What's happening?!" cried Taiitsukun, her features filled with uncharacteristic anxiety. Another deep thunderous boom resounded through the mountain, and more crystals fell from the ceilings and walls.

"They're here! Somehow they've found us!" barked Taiitsukun, all fear leaving her grim features as she prepared to face the Enemy's attack. "They're here for the children!"

She and Nyan instantly transported to the children's chamber. Many of the children were already up and about, awakened by crystals falling upon their bedclothes. Tomite and Chiriko moved between the beds, gently shaking awake any sleeping children. There was a surprising lack of hysteria, even from the children who had not regained their seishi memories, each one seeming to understand the necessity for staying calm under attack. Subaru held one of the Seiryuu twins while their mother clutched the other protectively to her breast. The small six-month-olds were quiet, sucking on their thumbs, content as long as Subaru and their mother kept them within each other's sight.

The thunderous booms increased in tempo and intensity, the sound reverberating until they felt as if they were all trapped within a giant taiko drum. Crystals flew off the ceilings and walls at increasing velocity. "Look!" cried Chiriko, pointing at a widening crack in the ceiling.

"Everyone in the center of the chamber!" shouted Taiitsukun. "Join hands!" The children ran to obey her command, Ryuen scooping up Sai as Chiriko held Juan protectively in front of him. Tomite grabbed Hikitsu, who pulled out of his grasp impatiently, while Tokaki hovered protectively near Subaru, ignoring her scowl.

Taiitsukun next turned her gaze on her blue-haired companion, her voice deepening as her form began to stretch and lengthen. "Guardian of the Seikun, trans_mute!_"

A silver light shot from Nyan's eyes as she sang out a strange keening wail that soon transformed into a feline roar, her form growing, curving over until a giant panther with silver-blue fur stalked around the perimeter of the room. Juan let out a brief sob of fear, but Chiriko picked him up and hushed him.

Where Taiitsukun had floated now stood a seven-foot man clad in celestial robes, ribbons writhing whiplike around his form, his features blurred except for his intense, glittering eyes. "Multiply!" he commanded Nyan, who immediately divided into six pacing panthers, switching their tails as they surrounded the seishi children protectively. The cave resounded with a strange creaking groan, the fissure in the ceiling widening and raining larger crystals and rocks upon the room.

Taiitsukun pulled himself up until he seemed to fill the entire chamber, all of the Nyan expanding with him. His features were clear now, terrifying in their raging beauty, as he raised his arms to the heavens and proclaimed in a voice that rang with celestial might. "The Four Palaces of the Heavens, the Four Corners of the Earth! In the Name of Sacred Law, Faith and Virtue, I Call Upon Byakko, Genbu, Suzaku and Seiryuu! By the Power of the Four Gods, You Shall Not Prevail!"

Just as the last words passed his lips, the mountaintop shattered with an explosive roar, a searing white light enveloping all within. A massive flock of black winged creatures diving from the night sky was blown back by the mighty blast of psi power, the beasts shrieking as they were sent tumbling through the air. Some were fatally injured, but most recovered quickly, pounding into the shattered mountain again and again with their metallic claws, ripping apart every stone until all that remained was crystal-studded rubble.

   
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**Part II.   Western Hokkan  
  
**

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In the shelter of a cluster of shrubs verging on the western steppes of Hokkan, a man startled in his sleep and cried out. His companion, resting on his chest, reached up a hand to caress his hair and murmured, "Shhhhh. S'all right, Gen-chan…" before dropping back into deep sleep. 

Tasuki snapped awake, his heart pounding with some inexplicable panic…and with shock at the unexpected caress. Did she really…? Or was it a dream? He shifted beneath her warm weight, unable to resist testing her. "Miaka?" he murmured gently, giving her a slight shake.

Miaka gripped Tasuki tighter but failed to wake up, exhausted by their travels that day. "No more ni'mares," she mumbled. "S'all over, Gen-chan…safe now…I lov…" her words were cut off by a soft snore.

"_What?!"_ shrieked Tasuki's mind. Without thinking, he shook her hard. "Miaka! Miaka, what're you…?"

"What?! What?!" she cried, jolted wide awake. "What's wrong? Have they found us?!"

Tasuki flushed guiltily under her panic-stricken gaze. "No! No, everything's okay; go back ta sleep."

Miaka panted, her heart pounding. "How am I supposed to go back to sleep? You scared me to death, Tasuki! What happened?"

"Tasuki," he repeated. "You called me Tasuki, not Gen…"

"Oh, that's right." Miaka pushed off his chest and rubbed her sleep-reddened eyes, frowning in confusion. "I'm supposed to call you Genrou. Sorry, Genrou. But why did you wake me?"

"Errrrr…somethin' woke me up, and you were, er, talkin' in your sleep." He strove for a casual tone. "So I wondered what you were dreamin' about."

Miaka stopped rubbing her eyes and fixed him with a look. "You woke me to ask what I was dreaming about."

"Well, you were mumblin' 'bout nightmares an' things bein' safe an'…" He caught her critical frown and winced. "Never mind. Stupid of me. Won't happen again; jus' go back ta sleep now…"

Miaka relented at Tasuki's obvious embarrassment. "No, I'm sorry. I just get a little cranky when someone shakes me out of a sound sleep." She grinned to show that she was teasing him. "Let's see…" She cast about for the drifting fragments of her dream. "Nightmares, hmm. Oh! I think I was dreaming that _you_ had a nightmare!" She frowned. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," sighed Tasuki. "An' it wasn't a dream. Somethin' woke me - some bad feelin' like a nightmare. Ya musta picked up on that."

"What kind of bad feeling?" Miaka pushed up into a sitting position. Tasuki's coat fell away from her, and she rubbed her arms and shivered. "Do you think it was a premonition?"

Tasuki shook his head, sitting up and rolling his shoulders to get the kinks out of his back. "Nah. Didn't have that prickly feelin.' It was more like…" he strove for a description. "More like somebody shot an arrow in my head, but the arrow was made of stars instead of metal, and they all exploded in my brain." He shifted under Miaka's stare. "What?"

"I'm trying to decide whether that's poetic - or just gross!"

"Well, you asked," he grumbled, irritated.

Miaka let out a peal of laughter. "I'm teasing you! Don't you remember how we always used to tease each other?" She stopped suddenly, caught by what she had just blurted out.

Tasuki was equally as arrested. "Yeah, I remember. I jus' didn't think you did. Well, that's one more memory back, thanks to th' nightmare."

Miaka continued to stare out into the darkness. A vision suddenly appeared before her eyes: Tasuki beneath her, his hair in wild red spikes, shirtless (_naked?_), as he leaned up in bed, laughing as he caught her lips with his own…

"Miaka? You all right?"

She jumped guiltily, trying not to stare at him. Was that a memory…or a fantasy? Until she sorted it out, it was best to keep it to herself. A sudden twinge diverted her thoughts. "Uh…I have to go now."

"Yeah, me too. Grab your stuff, an' we'll take a walk."

Miaka reached around until she found the small bag of "supplies" that Tasuki had thoughtfully provided for her. She was grateful for his casual attitude; it took some of the sting out of the embarrassing necessity for them to accompany one another on these "personal relief missions," as Tasuki had dubbed them to make her laugh.

They had only been traveling together for a day, but they had already settled into a routine. Tasuki pointed out a spot for her, then disappeared. They remained out of one another's sight but had to answer to intermittent calls, or expect the other to come rushing over to check on them.

When she was finished, Miaka walked out and found Tasuki leaning up against a tree. Once he caught her sight of her, he turned and began walking away. "Unfair," she grumbled as she hurried to match his strides. "Men are always so fast!"

"Nope, girls are jus' slow. Don' worry, though - I'm usta waitin.' Hell, I hadda learn ta wait on th' way _in!_ Five older sisters, an' every one of 'em takin' a fuckin' lifetime in th' outhouse. Was an unhappy day fer me when I got outta bottom cloths an' a happy day when I finally learned not ta piss on my shoes!"

Miaka burst into giggles, trying to picture Tasuki as a chubby toddler and utterly failing. They slowed as they arrived at their campsite, and she caught him smiling softly at her in the starlight. "What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothin.' Jus' good ta hear ya laugh again, Mi-chan. Been a while…" he trailed off, remembering her giggles as Tamahome had teased her outside the club. He swallowed and pushed the memory away. "Come on, let's get back ta sleep," he said abruptly.

Miaka gave a mental shrug as she settled down next to him, feeling him wrap her in the coat again. He certainly seemed to be moodier now than in her subconscious memories, but she would just have to get used to it. According to him, it had been more than eight years since they had last met, so it wasn't surprising that he should have changed. Besides, if she knew Tasuki, he would change back to cheerful before the sun rose. She settled deeper into his warmth, grateful for his presence no matter what mood he might be in. "Oyasumi, Tas - I mean Genrou," she murmured sleepily.

"Oyasumi, Miki-chan." His tones were soft again, and she snuggled deeper against him, letting his warmth wash over her and soothe her…

It seemed only a few minutes later that he was shaking her awake again. "Come on, Miki, get up!"

"What is it now?" she grumbled, really irritated this time.

"Sun's comin' up, an' we gotta move. If we get enough distance between us an' th' ambush site, maybe it'll be safe enough ta light a fire tonight. I don' know 'bout you, but I'm gettin' a little tired of cold food."

Miaka immediately pushed up into a sitting position, the mention of food grabbing her attention as he knew it would.

Tasuki grinned at her burst of energy. "All right, let's ride. Makaze'll find us some water, an' then we'll get cleaned up and stuff."

Miaka rubbed her flanks ruefully. "Do we have to ride so soon? I'm still sore from yesterday…Yiiiii!" she shrieked as Tasuki grabbed her and tossed her up in the saddle. She hadn't noticed Makaze grazing nearby.

"Only cure for a saddle-sore ass is ta keep riding, Miki-chan!" He leaped into the saddle behind her, shouted "Hup!" and they were off, Miaka crying, "Ow, ow, ow, ow!" for the next minute or so.

Luckily, Makaze turned aside after less than a mile, his nostrils flaring as he headed towards a grove of trees that stood out against the rolling plains. Tasuki dismounted, catching Miaka as she nearly fell out of the saddle. "Miss Graceful!" he teased her. "Come on, there's probably a spring or a stream or somethin' in here!"

Miaka stumbled after Tasuki, trying not to groan. Makaze followed her, giving her a gentle nudge with his nose as if he were apologizing. She turned and caressed his velvety muzzle. "Not your fault, big boy," she cooed at him. "I'm just not used to horseback riding. And did I tell you 'Good morning' yet?"

Tasuki called out from up ahead, kneeling before a shallow trickle of clear water that burbled as it flowed over smooth stones. "It's right here!"

"Aren't you a clever boy to find this nice water for us? Do you want a kiss for being so smart?"

Tasuki whirled around, his eyes wide…only to see Miaka deposit a kiss on Makaze's nose. "Talkin' ta th' goddamn _horse!"_ he muttered to himself. Makaze tossed his head and snorted in satisfaction as Miaka patted him fondly.

"He's amazing!" she confided to Tasuki, missing his irritation. "Did he really find this creek by sniffing it out?"

"It's basic survival for him, Miki," grumbled Tasuki as he scooped water into his battered metal pitcher. Makaze thrust past him and ducked his muzzle into the water, drinking deeply. "He'd hafta be able ta find food an' water if he was livin' in th' wild. We're jus' taggin' along an' takin' advantage of what he'd hafta do fer himself anyway."

"Well, I still think it's nice of him." Miaka stroked Makaze's neck affectionately.

Tasuki's irritation slipped away as he watched her coo at the giant horse as if it were an over-large kitten. She really _was_ cute with her short curls blowing around her head. He put a hand to his inside coat pocket, checking for something tucked deep inside. Yes, there it was, safe and sound…that and the ring. He had removed her wedding ring on their first night together while she slept, his bandit stealth assisting him in that task, not to mention her total exhaustion after their frantic flight from the dark beasts. It was the significance of this action that had brought the loss of Tamahome so vividly to his mind, allowing his grief to rise up and overwhelm him. 

Throughout the past day, he had watched her carefully to see if she subconsciously missed the ring. Every so often, she would reach her left thumb to rub at the base of her fourth finger as if it irritated her…but then her eyes would go blank for a moment before she returned to whatever she had been doing. Yes, Chichiri's spell was powerful in its scope, as he should know. Tasuki regretted his anger at Chichiri after Miaka had forgotten him; after all, they had been under attack when the magician cast the spell. It was amazing that the spell was effective at all; he could hardly complain that it was a little _too_ effective. "Better safe than sorry," muttered Tasuki, and he resolved to make it up to Chichiri when next they met. And they _would_ meet up again; he wouldn't permit himself to believe anything different.

While Tasuki was lost in his reverie, Miaka slipped around him to the creek and brought a handful of water to her lips. "Brrrrrrrr, it's freezing!" she laughed.

Tasuki felt his heart lift. No matter what danger they were in, no matter the circumstances under which they had joined up again, it was so goddamn good to be with her again! He had been so worried about their survival for the last day that he hadn't permitted himself to feel the joy that she brought to him just by being nearby. He loved her bubbling laugh, her sunny smile, even her fits of temper…and he was determined to keep her laughing, happy, healthy…

Healthy. Next step.

"Okay, Miki, time ta get cleaned up, an' I mean _all over_! Yesterday, we were in a hurry gettin' away from th' ambush, but today we got a little more time, an' we're gonna take advantage of it. So I'd appreciate it if ya went around those shrubs and occupied yerself while I do my stuff, then I'll give ya the same privacy. Same call-and-answer as usual, of course."

Miaka turned a confused gaze on him as she backed away from the creek. "Behind the shrubs?"

Tasuki grinned at her. "Yeah - and no fair peekin,' 'cause if that water's as cold as ya say, you'd get a real bad impression of me."

"Bad impression?" 

"Yeah, like in everythin' I got shrinkin' up and tryin' ta crawl back inta my body for warmth."

"What do you mean…oh!" Miaka's face was bright scarlet. She retreated back towards the shrubs as he pulled off his shirt and began untying his trousers. "I'll, uh, just be back there, just, uh…" _'Trying not to picture you naked,'_ she finished to herself, sitting on the ground and pulling her knees up to her chin. It was no use; it was the old "green-striped zebra" conundrum - the more she tried to push thoughts of a naked Tasuki out of her mind, the more images kept appearing before her eyes. She tried scolding herself, reasoning with herself and finally fell back on the baseball game imagery that Yui had laughed about with her…but why then was Tasuki playing every base? Naked? She sighed. Baseball had never interested her that much anyway…not until now.

"Hey, Miaka!"

Miaka leaped up in relief and ducked around the shrubs. It had only been a little more than a minute, but he must have already finished…Oh, _Gods!!_

He must have heard her strangled choke, because he whirled around. "Hey!" he protested, looking around for anything to cover himself, and snatching up the little soap bag. It wasn't much use. "What're ya doin' here?!" he cried.

"You called me!" Miaka's eyes were wide with shock, her face burning hot.

"Dontcha remember our deal, baka girl?! Call-and-answer?!"

"Oh!" Miaka stumbled back. "Oh, that's right. Uh, I'll just…" Words failed her, and she backed away, gesturing weakly towards the shrubs before scrambling back around their sheltering branches. Once there, she collapsed on the ground, knocking her fists against her head. "Baka, baka, baka!" she scolded herself. Now he was going to think that she was a pervert for certain. As for imagining Tasuki naked - she didn't need her imagination anymore. She felt as if the images of him were burned onto her retinas for eternity. And if that was the way he looked after dousing himself with cold water…dear _gods_, what must he look like when he wasn't freezing to death?! "Enough of this!" she hissed at herself. "You're bad! You're a bad, bad, _bad_ girl! Bad Girl! Bad Girl!"

She must have lost track of time as she ranted at herself, for the next thing she knew, her fists were caught in a strong grip and her chin tilted up. She stared into Tasuki's amber eyes, noting absently that the water had darkened his hair to her shade of dark russet, making his dyed sideburns look less odd. He was thankfully dressed in his trousers again, although his chest still glistened with droplets of water.

He grinned at her, showing his fangs. "C'mon, Mi-chan, quit beatin' yerself up! It was an accident…an' it was gonna happen eventually anyway."

Miaka swallowed, trying to get some saliva in her suddenly dry mouth. "What do you mean, eventually?" she rasped.

"It's inevitable, Miaka - when two people spend day and night together fer a long time like we're gonna be doin', they're gonna run inta each other naked. It's like a weird celestial law…or joke, I dunno which!" 

She had to smile at his cheerful good humor. In fact, it was a relief; she had subconsciously been expecting him to rant at her.

"Okay, now it's your turn."

Miaka squeaked in shock. "For you to see me naked?!"

Tasuki laughed. "Not necessarily, baka girl! Jus' make sure that you answer when I call you!"

Miaka felt the chill of his skin beneath her fingers and shivered in sympathy. "Look, Tas…I mean Genrou, you said that maybe we could have a fire tonight. Why don't I wait till then and use some hot water instead…?" She stopped as his eyes went flat and hard.

"There ain't no guarantees that we're gonna find water tonight, Miki. If there's one thing ya gotta learn 'bout survivin' in th' outdoors, it's that ya gotta take advantage of opportunities while ya have 'em." He dragged her to her feet and marched her to the creek.

She stooped and dabbled her fingers in the water once again, this time trying to imagine the freezing liquid against her skin. "Oh!" she squeaked again. "Genrou, I really don't think…" She gasped as he pulled her to her feet, yanked open the shirt she was wearing and untied the loose trousers with a single tug on the string. "Wait, what do you think you're doing?!"

"Gettin' you ready for a cold bath. If you won't do it, I'll scrub yer little ass myself!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, wouldn't I?!" His face was scarlet with anger…and embarrassment. "Listen up, Miki, yer gonna hafta clean yerself every day, 'specially…" he coughed but forced himself to go on, "'specially yer female parts. Doesn't matter if th' water's so cold, it stings till ya scream! When we're further north, yer gonna hafta use snow, if that's all we got! 'Cause if ya don't, yer gonna get sick. Yer gonna get open sores, an' there's not a damn thing I can do fer you then, 'cept try ta find a healer, which ain't gonna be easy since we ain't seen another _human bein'_ so far! So I'm _orderin'_ you ta use this freezin' cold water, or I'll take things inta my own hands, an' I promise you that yer not gonna like that!"

Miaka pulled away from him, furious. "Fine! Fine, I'll do it myself! I have no intention of allowing you to molest me!" Something deep inside her cringed at her angry words, for Tasuki turned as pale as he had the previous night.

He didn't gasp for breath this time, however. He merely glared at her, pain fighting with anger for dominance in his eyes. Finally he spoke, and his voice was low and angry. "Good. I'm goin' back behind those shrubs, an' ya better not get any cute ideas 'bout fakin' it. Makaze's not the only one around here with a good sense of smell!" With that, he spun on his heels and left.

Miaka stood gasping on the bank of the creek. How _dared_ he imply….?! He was insulting, he was _infuriating, _he was…! "Trying to keep me safe," Miaka finally admitted to herself, her anger evaporating with her sense of injustice. He was trying to keep her healthy in a place where there were no antibiotic pills, no anti-yeast creams, no antibacterial douches; where the only things that stood between her and a raging infection were clear, cold water and basic hygiene.

She turned back to the creek, pulling off her clothes and dipping the battered metal pitcher into the water, pouring its contents over her head and body. She gasped and sobbed at the stinging slap of the water on her skin but welcomed it at the same time. She deserved it for all the grief she was constantly giving Tasuki. Another sob escaped her, and for some reason she pictured herself with a branch in her hand, frantically scrubbing at her skin until she gouged deep scratches. She shook her head at that strange image.

"Miaka." His voice was still pitched low as he called out to her.

Probably still furious with me, she thought. "Fine…I'm fine!" she choked. She snatched up the bag of soap and scrubbed herself thoroughly, then poured one pitcher of cold water after another over her body until she was certain that every last trace of dirt, sweat and soap was gone. She pushed her streaming hair out of her eyes, her teeth chattering as she looked around for something to dry herself with. Stupid girl. She had been so busy fighting with Tasuki that she had forgotten to bring a towel. For some reason, this was the last straw, and she sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around her freezing body as she shuddered with helpless sobs.

In an instant, he was there beside her, covering her in a soft thick cloth and pulling her to his body to warm her. She continued to shake and sob, leaning her head against the smooth warm skin of his chest.

"Shhhh, Mi-chan, don't cry. I'm sorry, 'kay? I shouldn't have said that stuff ta ya." His voice hardened. "I can be a right bastard sometimes."

"No," she sobbed. "It's not you, it's me! No matter how much you try to look out for me, I have to act like a b….!" Her voice was cut off as he placed a finger over her lips.

"Hey!" he rebuked softly. "No insultin' my priestess, got it? That's _my_ job," he joked, trying to catch her eye.

She smiled up at him through her tears. "Then you can't insult my warrior, either. I keep him busy enough with my own poisoned tongue…" she started to tear up again.

"Okay, enough of the insults and tears," Tasuki announced briskly, rubbing another cloth through her wet curls. "We're right on schedule, Mi-chan - two fights in two days! At this rate, this long journey's gonna pass by like a brief jaunt. Ya know what they say - time flies if ya keep busy!"

Miaka giggled against his chest, happy to be back on good terms with him. Happy to be sitting on his lap. Again. With nothing but a towel between his skin and hers. Becoming aware of how close their _bodies_ were. Becoming aware that she was nestled against something between his thighs that she didn't have, something intriguingly...different. She flushed as a thought occurred to her. "Genrou…when you ran out here with the towel…you saw me naked, didn't you?!"

"Errrr, no. Well, okay, yeah. But not much." He met her skeptical gaze. "I mean, I didn't stop and stare or nothin' - I was too worried about gettin' you warmed up!"

She fixed him with a frown. "It just occurred to me…" 

"What?" His voice was apprehensive.

She suddenly broke into a wide grin. "It occurred to me that we're right on schedule!"

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Part III.     Mount Taikyoku

The wind blew harshly through the courtyard of the Temples of the Four Gods, rocking the dark, unlit spheres that hung low in the sky like some strange forgotten fruit. The few pilgrims who had ever reached the guarded confines of Mount Taikyoku would not now recognize the warm, peaceful gardens of that mystical refuge in this forsaken, leaf-strewn expanse. Everything in sight spoke of abandonment, loss, decay…the yellowed willows, the dried up fountains, the swirling, blackened leaves…

Only the temples appeared to hold off the encroaching erosion of this once-powerful stronghold; the small temples of each god along with the huge, brooding palace of Taiitsukun. Yet it was clear that the celestial powers had forsaken this desolate place: the serenity fountains of Genbu and Seiryuu languished in stagnant pools, motionless except for the occasional drip of water, while the flames of Suzaku and Byakko flickered low and blue in their cloudy, untended lamps.

Within the main palace, the wind whistled and shrieked past moaning doors and creaking shutters. It swirled through each room as if seeking out motion, light, warmth…and finding none, continued on its mournful way. Yet deep within, hidden beneath tons of obsidian marble that formed the dais of the all-powerful Oracle of the Four Gods, lay a chamber so secret, so skillfully concealed that most gathered within had never known of its existence in any of their lifetimes. Here was light, and warmth, and life.

Bright yellow flames burned steadily in wall sconces, while glowing braziers provided heat to the low-ceilinged yet extensive chamber. Children sat quietly cross-legged or respectfully in seiza as they waited for the Oracle to finish communing with their patron gods.

Taiitsukun lowered her arms and opened her eyes, her features even more haggard than usual. Nyan knelt respectfully nearby, but her childlike face was drawn and pale, speaking vividly of the tremendous power she and Taiitsukun had been forced to expend to bring the seishi children safely to this last refuge.

The Oracle stared at the children, her harsh features holding something that looked like sadness and regret. She cleared her throat, then spoke in solemn tones. "I must call upon your souls, my children; the souls of the seishi that walked on this plane in your previous lives. Do not be afraid, but open yourselves to the wisdom and knowledge of your former selves."

The children who remembered their previous existences - Chiriko, Nuriko, Subaru, Tokaki, and Tomite - closed their eyes, preparing themselves for the familiar feeling of disconnection as their adult selves manifested. The other children merely sat wide-eyed, waiting but not understanding.

Taiitsukun's voice rang out. "I call upon the souls of the warriors of Genbu: Tomite and Hikitsu! I call upon the souls of the servants of Byakko: Subaru and Tokaki! I call upon the souls of the children of Seiryuu: Amiboshi and Suboshi! And I call upon the souls of the Beloved of Suzaku: Nuriko, Hotohori, Chiriko, and Mitsukake!"

The children became very still, their eyes growing wide and blank as ghostly shapes flowed up from their bodies. The transparent forms gradually darkened, becoming more opaque and corporeal until at last each warrior stood firm and solid on this plane of existence. Ten pairs of eyes of every hue known to man met the sharp and glittering gaze of the oracle, some blinking in confusion while others narrowed in concern.

Nyan swallowed an unexpected lump in her throat at the sight of those whom she had lost to age or battle. She was particularly fond of the Suzaku warriors, especially Mitsukake, beloved friend of Chichiri-sama, who held a place in his heart for all feline creatures. She swallowed again at the absence of Tamahome, the laughing, courageous, warm-hearted miser who no longer existed in this world or any other. 

Taiitsukun's harsh tones interrupted her grieving reverie. "Now that you are once more with us, you know the trials of your reborn selves. It has become clear to me and your patron gods that we…" she choked slightly, "that we can no longer protect all of you. It is only a matter of time before the Enemy finds this last refuge and destroys it and all who dwell within. There is little we can do for you, our children…except give you the ability to protect yourselves."

There was a murmur of surprise from the celestial warriors. Nuriko, always bold and direct, called out a question. "Do you mean that you'll give our new bodies all of our former celestial powers?"

Taiitsukun smiled bitterly. "In a way, yes. But I caution you, Suzaku no Nuriko, that this gift comes at a price - a very high price."

"What price?!" challenged Hikitsu, suspicion in his unconcealed eye.

"Years of your lives, Genbu no Hikitsu…perhaps the very _best_ years of your lives."

Subaru blurted out her confusion. "But how? Why?!"

Taiitsukun settled into a stationary hover, her ribbons folding, concealing her thoughts. "As you know, celestial warriors generally do not attain the full extent of their powers until they reach their adolescence; that is the reason for the intermittent manifestation of the powers of intelligence in your last life, Suzaku no Chiriko. You were just entering that phase of your life when you sacrificed yourself for your brother warriors and miko."

Chiriko's large green eyes grew even wider at this simple explanation for the wavering of his seishi abilities in his previous life. He felt a flash of anger that Taiitsukun had never bothered to explain this to him; she might have saved him years of agonized self-doubt about his worthiness to be a shichiseishi!

Taiitsukun continued. "The seikun, your patron gods, have the ability to age your current bodies until they are physically capable of manifesting their celestial powers."

"Yes!" shouted Tokaki, winking at Subaru. She sighed and shook her head at him.

"Do not agree so quickly, Byakko no Tokaki. There are obvious complications with this solution."

"Our current forms may mature physically…but they won't have the mental and emotional development to match. We'll be children trapped in adult bodies."

"Exactly correct, Suzaku no Mitsukake! As you can imagine, it would be of very little use for you to have the physical capabilities of a warrior if your mind is at the level of a four-year-old! So the only way this can work is if we bring your former souls, with all of your former life experiences, into your newly matured bodies."

"I don't see why we need to think this over!" burst out Tomite impulsively. "It sounds like the perfect solution - we'll have our powers and our experiences all back within our grasp!"

"No solution is perfect, Genbu no Tomite. There are reasons why many of you have been reborn; much of it having to do with suffering you had undergone in your former lives, suffering that would no longer have existed in these new bodies. New lives, new choices…you have been gifted with the chance to purify all that was hurtful and dark in your previous existences. Your gods have rewarded you with loving families, bright destinies…and you will be forced to forsake all of that in order to reclaim your seishi abilities. Nor will you ever get these years back again - they will be your sacrifices to your gods and as such cannot be reclaimed."

"There's more, isn't there?" Amiboshi was quietly perceptive, as always.

"Yes." Taiitsukun's eyes slid away from him as he stood behind his infant form. "We, the seikun and I, have not attempted this kind of transmutation of seishi in…many years. Many, _many_ years; further back than any of you here today can remember. One problem that occurred in the past had to do with the acceptance of the new soul by the reborn child personality. Most will blend seamlessly with their former lives, accepting and yielding to the greater experience and wisdom, but…sometimes the new child cannot accept this dichotomy. If this happens, there will be _two_ individuals vying for control of the same body, and…therein lies madness."

There was shocked silence from every person in the chamber.

Taiitsukun drove on relentlessly. "We have studied the few instances where this had occurred in the distant past, and we have found a link between these unfortunate souls; a common fault. They had experienced such pain in their previous lives that they had lashed out and committed cold-blooded murder of innocents. Not accidental or unthinking violence, nor killing in the heat of battle, but calculated, planned destruction of another's existence. When these…flawed souls tried to take up residence with the clean, untouched personas of their new lives, madness was the result. So we cannot allow any of you who have the same kind of bitter past to make this choice. You will have to remain in your current body at your current age…and unfortunately, this means the exclusion of Seiryuu no Suboshi."

Suboshi flushed in anger and humiliation at being singled out for the crimes of his previous life. "Others here have killed!" he protested bitterly. "I am not the only one who has taken a life!"

Taiitsukun's eyes grew soft with sympathy. "You must think again of my qualifications, Seiryuu no Suboshi. You will not find salvation if you continue to deny responsibility in the deaths of the innocent family members of Suzaku no Tamahome. You began to accept your responsibility at the time of your death, and you will find final absolution in your new life. It is out of your god's desire to save your soul that he cannot permit you to sacrifice this new destiny."

Suboshi turned away, his eyes dark with pain. So it was Seiryuu himself who rejected him, after allowing Nakago to manipulate him into unspeakable crimes. Whether or not Tenkou was Nakago's true leader, Suboshi had believed that he was fighting for the future of Kutou and its patron god. The irony of this rejection made him want to choke.

"If my brother cannot make this choice, then neither will I!" rang out a clear, young voice. "I will not abandon him in this life nor the next! If we are to be helpless in the face of this Enemy, then I will die with him!"

Taiitsukun's face remained impassive, but there was a suggestion of relief in her posture. "We have no intention of allowing you to be killed, Seiryuu no Amiboshi - neither you nor your brother." She raised her voice. "Each and every one of you has the freedom to turn away from this offer - each and every one who decides to stay with his or her new life and family will be afforded all of the protection we can give. We will be forced to move from place to place to keep ahead of the Enemy, but we will fight to protect you to the very end."

Her voice dropped. "None of us had foreseen this threat to our world. The seikun and I gave you new lives, new destinies, thinking only of wiping away your pasts and bringing you bright futures. The decisions we made were not made with this eventuality in mind. If there were any other way, we would spare you this sacrifice…and so we say again, you may turn away from this bitter choice…" she raised her eyes, "Suzaku no Seishi Hotohori."

All of the seishi's eyes snapped to the breathtakingly perfect features of the Konan Emperor. He stood straight and tall, his lustrous chestnut hair falling to his waist, his golden eyes dark with determination.

"Hotohori-sama?" Nuriko choked, completely at a loss as to why his love was being singled out for possible exclusion.

Hotohori spared him a brief, wry smile before turning back to Taiitsukun. His voice rang out with all of the majesty and power of his former position. "My country, no, my _world_ is under threat. Do you think that I would turn away from her service, and the service of Suzaku, for fear of pain and difficulty? I exist for the protection of Konan, of the ShiJinTenChiSho, and of the Priestess of Suzaku! To regain my celestial powers, to hold the holy sword of Suzaku high in their defense, there is no obstacle I cannot overcome! I choose to sacrifice sixteen years of this life to reclaim my power as Suzaku no Shichiseishi Hotohori!"

The other seishi couldn't help it; they burst into cheers, shouting their own years to be sacrificed. Only Suboshi turned from the celebration, hot and angry tears sliding down his cheeks. But he suddenly felt a warm presence beside him, and looked up into the tearful smile of his brother. "Otouto-chan," murmured Amiboshi. "No matter what happens, in the end we will be together again. If the others prevail, we will have an entire, unspoiled lifetime before us. Greater happiness I cannot imagine."

Suboshi felt the shadows of his former life recede before his love for his brother. Amiboshi had always possessed the power to push back his darkness…and always would possess that power. "Aniki," he breathed, leaning his head against his twin.

In all of the celebratory uproar, no one but Taiitsukun and Nyan noticed the fading away of the Seiryuu twins, their arms still linked about the other's waist. But their mother bent over their cradle, lifting her sons to her heart as they reached out with tiny, chubby hands to touch one another.

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Part IV.    Mount Taikyoku, a short while later

Taiitsukun cleared her throat, clapped her hands for order, and finally shouted, "Silence!" 

The chamber immediately quieted, sensing the urgency of their predicament.

"Before we begin the final steps of converting you into your new bodies and former souls, we need to pass urgent information on to you. In the past few days, we have come under attack in more places than just Mount Gyokuei. In the past few days…" Taiitsukun paused, then continued in a husky voice, "we have lost Suzaku no Seishi Tamahome to an attack by the Enemy in his own world. He has…his ki has disappeared from the knowledge of all here, in the same way that we have lost most of the Seiryuu warriors."

"Oh, _gods!"_ burst out Nuriko, tears starting from his violet eyes. "No! No, I can't believe it! Not Tama-chan, oh _gods,_ not Tama!" Hotohori came up from behind and placed a strong hand on Nuriko's shoulder as he wept, trying to convey comfort while fighting back his own tears. Mitsukake and Chiriko were equally as stricken, shaking and pale. The rest of the seishi fell silent in sympathy, feeling the reality of the chill hand of death wielded by the Enemy. Tokaki turned away from the rest, unsuccessfully hiding his grief over the death of his former protege. 

"What of Miaka?" questioned Hotohori softly. "And Tasuki and Chichiri? Didn't they go to Miaka's world to help them?"

"They managed to escape the attack on Tamahome, and Chichiri brought Miaka back to the ShiJinTenChiSho to hide her in the Refuge. But they were ambushed by the Enemy when they crossed back into our world."

Chiriko moved his head back-and-forth in shocked disbelief. "No! Not Chichiri-san and Tasuki and Miaka! No, we _can't_ have lost all of them!" Mitsukake said nothing but stood as pale as a ghost, his eyes glittering with rage, while Tomite struggled for control, and Subaru fought back sobs.

"No, they're not dead!" Taiitsukun cleared her throat again. "At least, not to our knowledge. Chichiri managed to send us a message telling of the ambush. He sent Tasuki and Miaka fleeing into Hokkan, while he drew off the attack. His intention was to try to track the creatures back to their lair and discover more of the ways of the Enemy. However…." Her voice dropped, "we have since lost track of his ki."

The seishi flinched under yet another blow. Taiitsukun sought to comfort them, her voice rough with emotion. "However, I for one do not believe that Suzaku no Chichiri is dead. I know him better than any of you - yes, even you, Mitsukake - and I have the strongest feeling that he is more in control of this situation than the Enemy realizes. However, my most urgent message has to do with Suzaku no Tasuki and the Priestess of Suzaku. We have just now detected their ki forces in the western plains of Hokkan."

There was a muted cheer from the Genbu and Byakko seishi, while the Suzaku seishi lifted their heads, desperate hope etched on all of their features.

"How are they doing? Are they all right?" choked Nuriko.

"We cannot tell, Nuriko. We dare not communicate with them along our usual paths, for we feel that this is the way the Enemy tracks the location of the seishi. To send them information or to offer our help may be tantamount to a death sentence for them."

Taiitsukun sighed. "We have been rendered dumb and blind for the sake of the safety of all of the seishi. Therefore, the only way we can communicate is through common human channels - the physical carrying of messages." She looked hard into each seishi's face. "You will all be sent away from here for two purposes - for your own protection, and also to raise resistance forces against this encroaching evil. The only information you will carry will be that which I bestow upon you now. You will be without help, without aid or succor, except from one another or from your seishi brothers and sisters out in the field. We have sent a message to your elder compatriots, letting them know of the necessity to extend aid to Tasuki and Miaka…but they have no idea as to your new existence as adult celestial warriors. We caution you that there are many traitors out there working on behalf of the Enemy, so you must take care as to whom you trust. Likewise, do not be startled if your elder celestial brothers and sisters do not trust you."

" I will now assign you to your separate missions - in this way, you will have at least cursory knowledge of the activities of your fellow warriors." 

"Genbu no Tomite and Genbu no Hikitsu - your task is to raise a resistance force in Hokkan. Your god also requests that you make contact with the Emperor of Hokkan; for some reason, he has not communicated with the monks of Genbu in many weeks. Lastly, if possible, you are to pass this information and news of our current status to Genbu no Urumiya, Hatsui, Inami, Uruki and Namame."

"Byakko no Tokaki and Byakko no Subaru - your tasks are much the same as the Genbu seishi, with the exception of the Sairou Emperor; we have no reason to believe there is trouble in the Imperial Palace. Raise whatever armies you can, and try to make contact with Byakko no Kokie, Toroki, Amefuri, and Karasuki."

"Suzaku no Hotohori and Suzaku no Nuriko…" Taiitsukun paused for a moment, then continued in a softer voice. "The Konan Empire is in good hands with the Dowager Empress Houki and the young emperor. Therefore, the most efficient use of your expertise in governing will be in the Empire of Kutou." 

Hotohori closed his eyes momentarily, while Nuriko's eyes popped wide open. "Us?! Serve _Kutou?!"_

"Suzaku no Nuriko, the time for enmity between Kutou and Konan is long past. Most of Seiryuu's warriors are missing, presumed dead. Furthermore, as you have seen with the twins, those that survived cannot take on this mission. The government of Kutou is in constant upheaval, the people suffering and dying in the streets. It will take strong and experienced hands to bring Kutou back to a functional country, let alone a useful ally. We can promise you one ally in this undertaking, but other than that, you will be on your own. Do you think that you are capable of fulfilling this mission?"

Nuriko opened his mouth to ask more questions, but was cut off by Hotohori's firm "Yes!" The violet-haired warrior glanced at his emperor, then waved a hand in acquiescence. "What he said," he replied in a bemused voice.

Hotohori spoke up, his velvety voice hesitant. "Taiitsukun-sama, I would make a single request. Before I depart for Kutou, I would like to visit the Imperial palace in Konan to retrieve my holy sword…and to visit my son."

Taiitsukun frowned. "That could be very confusing for him, Hotohori - and painful for you."

"I do not intend to reveal my identity to him; I wish only to see him one last time."

Nuriko swallowed a lump in his throat, feeling the bittersweet pain that lanced through him each time that Hotohori expressed his devotion to his wife and son. 

Taiitsukun scowled in thought, then nodded reluctantly. "We will grant you this request, Suzaku no Hotohori, out of gratitude for all that you have sacrificed in the service of your god." She then turned once again to the warriors gathered before her. "The final task for all of you, should the opportunity present itself, is to render aid to Suzaku no Tasuki and the Suzaku no Miko. Have you any questions?"

Chiriko raised his hand shyly. "Er, Taiitsukun-sama…you forgot to assign a mission to me and Mitsukake."

Taiitsukun turned a dark gaze upon them. "No, I haven't forgotten you, Suzaku no Chiriko…Suzaku no Mitsukake. Your mission is complex and dangerous, and takes you far from help from any of us in the ShiJinTenChiSho. We are sending you to Miaka's world to protect the Seiryuu no Miko…and to gain knowledge of the Enemy using the technology of their time." She held out the burnt and melted computer chip that Tasuki had retrieved from the black beast that had attacked Subaru. Mitsukake scowled, but Chiriko reached out a trembling, awestruck hand to lift the chip, turning it over and over to try to ascertain its purpose.

"You must take care, Chiriko and Mitsukake. You will be battling the same beasts that killed Tamahome and the Seiryuu warriors, but your only weapons will be your seishi powers of intelligence and healing."

"I have more weapons than that," muttered Mitsukake under his breath.

"Very well. Now that you have your assignments, it is time for you to assume your final forms. You may decide how many years of your life you wish to sacrifice, although we recommend that your new form be at least fifteen years old in order to fully manifest your powers." Taiitsukun wearily held a hand up to her head as one last complication presented itself. "One last warning. We are not certain of the magnitude of your celestial powers in your new bodies. It's possible that your abilities will not be as extensive as they were in your last life. We urge you to test out these powers as soon as possible, while you are still safe, to determine their scope."

The voices of the seishi rose in confusion. "But I don't understand!" burst out Tomite. "Isn't the whole purpose of this transmutation to give us back our full adult powers?!"

Taiitsukun flashed a wry smile that reminded some of the seishi of a certain red-haired compatriot. "In the words of Suzaku no Tasuki - it's better than nothing!" She grew immediately serious. "And unfortunately, it's all that we can do." 

There were no more questions or protests, so Taiitsukun closed her hooded eyes, meditating to channel the power of the Four Gods. Nyan flew among the children, urging the seishi to make physical contact with their quiet, entranced child selves. Finally, Taiitsukun was ready to begin.

"Genbu no Hikitsu - how many years will you offer to your god?"

"Ten." 

In an instant, a seventeen-year-old youth stood in place of the child, his long silvery-grey hair falling across his face and half-concealing his handsome features, as well as his seishi-branded left eye.

"Genbu no Tomite - how many…?"

"Ten!" Tomite interrupted. He grinned at Hikitsu. "I want to be the older one this time!" In an instant, his child form metamorphosed into a nineteen-year-old man.

"Byakko no Tokaki, how many years will you offer to your god?"

"Twelve!" Another nineteen-year-old.

"Byakko no Subaru."

"Twelve," she repeated uncertainly.

Taiitsukun paused. "Subaru, the choice must be yours alone, uninfluenced by the desires of others. Are you certain?"

Subaru paused, thinking of her mother, brother…and father. "I changed my mind," she answered. "Ten."

Tokaki shrugged, unconcerned. "Sixteen, eighteen; it makes no difference to me." He grinned at her. "You'll still be as beautiful and desirable as ever!," missing Subaru's troubled frown.

"Suzaku no Mitsukake, how many years will you offer to your god?"

"Twelve." He looked away from his brother seishi's surprise at his choice of the youngest age so far - sixteen. "I don't want to grow too much older than Shouka," he explained, referring to his reborn ten-year-old love. Before he knew it, his child form had transformed into a tall, thin gangling youth, as awkward as an overgrown puppy.

"Suzaku no Chiriko."

"Thirteen years."

Once again, the Suzaku seishi murmured in surprise. At twenty years old, Chiriko would become the eldest of the reborn seishi.

Mitsukake shook his head. "No. You're not thinking this through, Chiriko. Your past life died at age thirteen. You can't choose a reborn form so much older; you won't know how to handle it."

Chiriko flushed in anger. "I've always had the mental capabilities of someone more than twice my age! I'm tired of being treated like a child - I deserve the age I choose!"

Mitsukake switched to a reasonable tone. "Yes, I won't deny that you were our most intelligent seishi, except for Chichiri. I'm not talking about scholarly knowledge, Chiriko; I'm talking about life experience. There is a huge difference in emotional maturity between ages thirteen and twenty. Surely you understand…"

"I was emotionally mature enough to give my life for all of you." The words were cold and direct, and Mitsukake fell silent in surprise at the resentment carried in the short phrase.

Taiitsukun cleared her throat. "Ahem. One will not contradict that fact, Suzaku no Chiriko. Nor will one discount the wisdom of Suzaku no Mitsukake's advice. However, the choice is a personal one, and as I said before, may not be made except by the seishi himself. So do you still offer thirteen years to your god, Chiriko?"

"Yes." Chiriko was resolute.

Before their eyes, the form of the once small and childlike seishi lengthened, his chestnut hair falling long and loose across his shoulders. Chiriko was a handsome young man, only about five-foot-seven but attractive in his compact grace.

As the reborn seishi gazed at one another, they could detect slight differences in height or musculature or facial features, differences brought forth from their new parentage. Yet those that had known each other in their past lives all recognized one another. Tokaki still possessed a devilish twinkle in his slanted golden eyes, while Subaru's eyes held the mysterious blue-grey depths of a mountain lake. Their brilliant white tresses formed a startling contrast against the deep midnight of Tomite's hair. Hikitsu carried his new form with familiar arrogance. Mitsukake, his gangling limbs lending him a charming awkwardness, still looked out at the world through compassionate blue eyes, eyes that held a trace of sadness. 

Nuriko, never one to fade into the background, clapped his hands impatiently. "When is it my turn?!"

"Right now, Suzaku no Nuriko. How many years…"

"Twelve!" The violet-haired seishi grinned cheekily. "I _liked_ being eighteen. It was a good year…my _last_ year, but a good one all the same!"

The other seishi laughed at Nuriko's mischievous humor. His child form lengthened rapidly until he found himself, alive and aware, blinking out of violet eyes higher from the ground than he could ever remember. "Look at me! I think I gained a few inches! Arigatou, Taiitsukun-sama!"

"Thank your parents," she replied dryly. Nuriko was much taller than he had been in his previous life but still of average height, perhaps five-foot-nine. He clowned for the rest of the seishi, striking poses and flexing his muscles, but Taiitsukun sensed his desperate attempt to divert himself from the shock of Tamahome's death. The two seishi had been closer than brothers, and she knew that the loss of Tamahome had been a terrible blow to Nuriko. To all of them. However, there was yet another shock to come.

"Suzaku no Hotohori."

The emperor looked away from Nuriko, his aristocratic features growing serious as he met Taiitsukun's gaze. He stood tall behind the tiny form of the beautiful child he had become.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes. I choose…I choose to give Suzaku sixteen years of my life…and all else he may ask of me."

Nuriko smiled in delight. "Hotohori-sama wants to be eighteen again like me!"

The form of the tiny child lengthened, widened, surging upward like a new shoot seeking the sun. It rotated, turning away from the other seishi as it lifted graceful arms towards the ceiling. Lush chestnut hair fell down its back in a rich cascade, as legs lengthened and waist narrowed. Finally, it stopped, bowing its head in humility before the throne of Taiitsukun. Nuriko noted that Hotohori was shorter than before, matching his own new height. He waited for his emperor to turn around.

"Hotohori-sama?" Nuriko's voice caught in his throat as he noticed another difference in Hotohori. His form was still lean and graceful, but his hips were wider, curving under the drape of his long tunic. Hotohori finally turned and faced the other seishi, tears shining in the dark gold eyes, a sad smile trembling on exquisite rose lips…

…the curve of breasts swelling beneath her tunic.

Nuriko sucked in a hissing breath. "Hotohori-samaaaaaa!!"

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Glossary of Japanese Terms  


baka! - stupid!  


Arigatou! - Thank you!  


-sama - a suffix denoting high respect, translated as "lord" or "lady"

Author's notes: (11-19-03)   So the plot thickens…and burgeons and writhes and roils! (Ah, the joy of mixing metaphors!)

This truly was a schizophrenic chapter! First some battle action, followed by some Tasuki and Miaka emotional action, finally settling down into an exercise in logical cause-and-effect. I would like to congratulate all of you who made it through this punishingly exposition-heavy chapter! I can't bring myself to apologize, however, since every single plot point is absolutely essential to the development of the rest of this epic work.

Those of you who have followed me for the past 22 months know that it's very important to me that my plots make logical sense. The aging of the child seishi was difficult to work out in all of its ramifications and foreseeable effects, but I couldn't be satisfied with it until all the pieces locked together like cogs in a gear assembly. All of "Hidden Paths," from this chapter onwards, will build off the information conveyed here. So if for any reason I've been less than clear about the seishi transformations, please write to me and let me know; I will answer you as quickly and comprehensively as I can.

Thank goodness that prior to taking you down this information highway, I gave you a bit of fun with Tasuki and Miaka. But… I really have to blush. Imagine me, Roku, writing a nude scene smack in the middle of this chapter! I realize that this is _completely_ out of character with my modest and shy personality, but this scene really wasn't gratuitous; it was _necessary_ to the advancement of the plot…

All right, you can quit laughing now. I wrote the previous line in case there's anybody reading this fic who hasn't read my other works! ^ ~ A naked seishi, imagine that! And miko as well! However, I _am_ making progress dealing with my literary sex addiction, or at least that's what my support group at Perverts Anonymous tells me. After all, it's taken me all the way until Chapter Eight of "Hidden Paths" to get Tasuki naked, as opposed to Chapter One in "White Stones," Chapter Three in "Casting Stones" and a naked Chichiri (and Doctor!) in Chapter Six of "Bridge." See - some day, I may even write a Chapter Ten that isn't completely hentai! There's hope for me yet! (Kryssa snorts skeptically.)

I would like to say, however, that Tasuki and Miaka's quarrelsome relationship is _completely_ fabricated by my overactive imagination and has no basis in my real life. (Chichiri's Girl chokes with laughter.)

Back to the story. You can probably guess at some of the upcoming conflicts in future chapters: age problems, emotional maturity struggles, sexual identity crises …yep, like I said before, this is a full-service fic. I plan on taking you everywhere and anywhere on this wild coaster ride. I only hope that you're having _half_ as much fun reading Hidden Paths as I'm having writing it!

Speaking of which…I solemnly swear never to neglect this fic for so long again. It's been _four months _since my last update, minna! I nearly shocked myself silly when I checked and re-checked the previous update date! Aaaaaannnd, to pat myself on the back so hard that I choke, this is the _second_ 10,000 word chapter that I've posted in the past 5 days! I don't think I've EVER averaged 2000 words per day before, not even when I was writing "White Stones!" Ah well, this fact makes me happy…and hopefully serves as a kind of apology to you for my long absence!

See you next time!

Ja ne!

Roku

  



	9. The quests begin

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them. 

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Many thanks to Kaze-chan for the loan of her original background history of Subaru and Tokaki as depicted in her marvelous story, "It Was a Normal Day in the Market." This history was used with her express permission and may not be used elsewhere without her permission.  
   
  


Special Note: Due to the increased action throughout the ShiJinTenChiSho, Earth, and certain otherworldly sites, some chapters (such as this one) will have location headings to let you know exactly where the action is taking place. Think of it as jumping from scene to scene in a movie - which is exactly the way this story plays through my mind.

Important reminder: Although I know that this is probably unnecessary, I'll just give a quick reminder to everyone that time moves _much_ slower in Tokyo than it does in the ShiJinTenChiSho. And so we rejoin Yui and company - right where we last saw them.  
   
  


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 **  
   
Chapter 9.    The quests begin…**  


   
**Tokyo  
   
**  
Yui breathed rapidly, trying to calm the pounding of her heart, trying to keep from panicking; panic was a luxury for which they would pay with their lives. Strong arms grasped hers, and two bodies pressed on her from either side, comforting her with their warmth. She tried to focus on that warmth instead of on the wet, squelching sound of tearing flesh coming from a spot only twenty meters from their hiding place. _'It doesn't matter,_' she tried to reassure herself. _'He's already dead, so it doesn't matter that that thing is…is…'_

But it _did_ matter. There was something obscenely wrong about a human body being devoured, dead or not - something that touched off a chord deep inside her, overwhelming her with primal fear and a loathing so intense that she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. Despite her best efforts, a tiny strangled sob escaped her - and the tearing sounds abruptly stopped.

Yui shrank back against her companions, mentally shrieking at herself for her fatal mistake…and it _was_ fatal for all of them, for with that strange inner sight that had come upon her, she knew that the nightmare beast was turning its malignant head toward their hiding place. She heard a machinelike chuff of breath, followed by the scraping of its metallic claws against the wet concrete.

Tetsuya reached across from her left, tugging at Keisuke's sleeve and pointing to himself, then motioning in a quick slash down the alley. _'NOOOOOO!' _mouthed Yui in a silent scream, but Keisuke merely nodded grimly, understanding that Tetsuya was going to buy them their only chance to get Yui out of there alive. Yui pulled desperately on Tetsuya's sleeve, trying to hold him back. He placed his hand over hers and gave her a soft squeeze…before gently removing her hand and shifting his position, ready to run.

Just as Tetsuya burst from behind the dumpsters, a low moaning wail filled the alleyway, and flashes of scarlet light washed over the surrounding buildings. Tetsuya cried out in surprise as he bounced off the metal side of the new intruder, while the nightmare beast hissed and retreated. Yui felt the transdimensional exit of the beast in the popping of her ears and the cessation of the crawling sensation in her brain.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?!" shouted one of the two policemen exiting the patrol car. He grabbed Tetsuya and hauled him to his feet, holding him against the wall with his billy club. Tetsuya, still under the influence of his terror-induced adrenaline rush, could only shake his head and gasp for air. Keisuke held Yui tightly behind the dumpsters, signaling her to keep silent.

"Enoki-san! Did you see that?" The second policeman was pointing in disbelief at the spot where the nightmare beast had disappeared. "What _was_ that thing?!"

The first policeman ignored him, shaking his captive roughly. "Why are you skulking around here?! Do you know anything about the explosion back there?!"

"Enoki-san! Come here quick!" The second policeman stood over the bloody, partially eaten remains of the assassin. "I think…" he paused, forcing down his gorge, "I think it's a body!"

Enoki-san ran toward his partner, dragging an unwilling Tetsuya with him. But even the hardened veteran blanched in shock at the sight of the headless, limbless torso steeped in its own gore. "_Shikuso!_" he swore. For the briefest moment, his grip loosened on Tetsuya's arm - and the young man twisted with surprising force, wrenching out of the policeman's grasp and darting around the patrol car. Keisuke pulled Yui out from behind the dumpster, and the three took off at top speed, ignoring the shouts of the policemen to stop. 

Tetsuya and Keisuke held Yui by each arm, making her almost fly over the rain-slicked pavement. They could hear the police chasing them, but their terror of the night's events imbued them with desperate speed, enabling them to pull away from their pursuers. The police radio crackled in the distance as Enoki-san called for back-up.

The three fugitives finally gained the street, only to be brought up short by emergency vehicles parked helter-skelter across the road. Strobing red and blue lights flashed across teams of men in fire gear spraying water on the smoking remains of Taka's car. Yui sobbed in horror at the sight of Taka's murder scene, and Tetsuya forcibly turned her away, pulling her face into his broad chest. He exchanged grim glances with a suddenly tearful Keisuke, and they wove their way swiftly between the police cars and fire equipment, losing themselves in the morbidly excited crowd gathered behind the police barricades. Once past the outskirts of the crowd, they continued walking quickly until they reached the end of Gaien-Higashi Road, unobtrusively joining a small group of club-goers appropriating the cabs waiting at the taxi stand. 

Keisuke drew in a shaking breath of relief as they settled in the warm, smoky interior of the cab. Tetsuya took Yui's chilled hands and chafed them between his own as the cab shifted into gear. 

"Where to?" inquired the cabbie in a disinterested voice. 

Keisuke exchanged a look with Tetsuya over Yui's bowed head. "The National Library," he replied firmly.

The cabbie adjusted his rear view mirror, frowning at his passengers. "Sorry, mister, but the library ain't open at this time of night."

Tetsuya removed his shades and fixed the driver with an intense stare. "Don't worry about it. Just drive."  
   


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 **  
   
Northern Konan, the Byakko campsite**

Sparks flew up from the small campfire, spinning madly in the chill currents of air, dancing like frenetic fireflies before winking out of existence. Subaru shivered and held her hands closer to the flames. It was mid-spring, she knew, yet the nights here in the mountains of Konan still held the icy breath of winter. She longed for the temperate climes of her home village, blinking back tears at the memories of sitting around the firepit with her brother, mother, and father. She poked at the fire with a thick branch, shaking her head at her turbulent emotions. Here she was, about to embark on a dangerous quest while the existence of her entire world was threatened, yet her greatest grief was the thought that she was now too big to be cuddled on her father's knee.

At that moment, she was seized by a pair of strong arms and pulled backwards against a lean body hard with muscles. She shrieked and twisted in his grip, swinging the tree branch in a dimly remembered defensive move and connecting solidly with something hard. A shout of pain echoed through the diamond-studded sky.

"Dammit, woman, what is it with you?! Is your day not complete unless you hit me over the head with a piece of wood?!" Furious golden eyes glared down into hers.

Subaru gasped, fighting to regain her breath. "You frightened me!"

Tokaki took his hand away from his temple, holding it out to the firelight. "Look - blood! You could have killed me!"

Subaru strode up to him and pulled his hand away, examining the wound with quick, deft fingers. "It's just a scratch," she sniffed, unconsciously lapsing into familiar banter with him. "Hardly worth staging an opera scene over."

"But worth bringing you close," he purred seductively, changing moods with lightning rapidity. Suddenly, his hands were wound through her thick ivory tresses, pulling her head back and forcing her face up to his. He leaned in, his slanted golden eyes afire, his lips slowly, lightly brushing hers. She felt the length of his body pressed against hers, hard with desire, and felt an answering surge of desire firing through her nerves. Her young, newly matured body flinched at the novel sensations, pleasure mixing with irritating, almost painful stimuli, and she cried out, pushing back from him violently.

"Stop!" she gasped. "Just…stop it!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" His voice was thick with frustration, his face flushed with anger.

Subaru stared at him in surprise. Although they had spent years equivalent to two lifetimes with one another, this was the first time that he had ever acted like a petulant teen-aged boy. But then again, he had been significantly more mature when they had first met, that day in the marketplace. He had been settled in his destiny as a Byakko shichiseishi whereas she had still been unaware of her seishi powers.

Tokaki saw her eyes soften with memory…and moved swiftly to take advantage of the moment, seizing her around the waist and plunging his tongue into her mouth. A sharp pain lanced through his mouth as a blow rocked him back once again. He glared at Subaru through tears of pain. "You bit me! And slapped me!"

"I told you to stop it!" she quavered, tears rising in her blue-grey eyes.

In their last lifetime, her distress would have brought him to his knees, tender and contrite - but this time, strong emotions surged through his young body along with unfamiliar hormonal urges, and all he knew was a raging sense of grievance.

"This is all _shit!_" he roared at her, waving his hands to take in their surroundings. "All of this! Nothing makes any sense, this goddamn Enemy, people dying for no reason!" His features twisted in pain, and for a moment, Subaru thought he might burst into tears. However, he quickly regained control by refocusing his rage onto her. "You're my wife, dammit, and I'm sick of being teased by you! It's your duty to submit to me!" Even as he spoke the fatal words, he cringed internally at their utter stupidity.

But it was too late. Subaru's famous temper was aroused at last, her eyes blazing as if filled with the fires of Hell itself. "You…you…you _SCUM!"_ she shrieked. "Teasing you?! I was just tending the fire when you _assaulted_ me! I have news for you, Tokaki! I'm not your wife in this life, not now, not _EVER!_" 

Tokaki blanched at her rejection. "You're crazy! You…you've gone insane! We have a lifetime of history together! We were joined in the eyes of our god…"

"Don't call me _crazy!_" howled Subaru in fury. "Don't you _dare_ call me _insane!_ The fact that I don't want you makes me into a madwoman?! Your ego is the biggest thing in this entire universe!"

"No!" Tokaki grabbed her arm, pulling her to him desperately. "You can't say that you don't want me anymore, you can't _mean_ that! I CAN'T LOSE YOU, TOO!"

Subaru pulled out of his grasp, hitting at him, punching at him. Some of the blows connected, but he kept grabbing at her desperately, trying to pull her to him, hold her and keep her…when suddenly a tremendous force caught him by the back of his shirt and flung him halfway across the campsite. Tokaki slammed into a tree and crumpled at its base, groaning in pain.

A figure stooped over Subaru, murmuring words of comfort to the angry, weeping girl, wrapping her in the folds of a thick cloak…then turned and strode over to the dazed Byakko warrior. A hand reached down and hauled Tokaki to his feet as easily as if he had been a child. Tokaki focused blearily on the glittering violet gaze of Suzaku no Nuriko.

"Listen up," said the Suzaku warrior in a quiet, dangerous voice. "This stops right here, right now. I want your word of honor as a shichiseishi that you will keep your hands to yourself, or I'll be forced to take her along with me and Hotohori-sama on our mission, and you can go off to Sairou on your own!"

Tokaki clenched his jaw in rage. "You can't do that! She's a Byakko warrior - and my wife! What happens between us is none of your business!"

"Oh, it's my business, all right." Nuriko's voice was mild as he casually inspected his fingernails, but the menace beneath the calm tones was unmistakable. "It's my business when any man ignores a lady's firm rejection, and it's especially my business when the two of you scream and shout, sending ki flares rocketing up into the night sky like fireworks. I happen to know that none of the Enemy are anywhere nearby - and the reason I know this is because if they were, they'd be attacking us _right now." _The violet eyes lifted, fixing Tokaki with an icy, threatening glare. "My camp is just over the next rise - and if you think for even one misguided moment that I will allow you to endanger Hotohori-sama," he moved closer, poking Tokaki in the chest for emphasis, "you had Better. Think. Again."

Tokaki flushed in humilation. _He_ was supposed to be the one who protected Subaru, not the one she needed protection _from._ His shame flared up, converted into anger by his immaturity. "I guess I'm not the only one around here with _woman_ troubles," he sneered.

"You're really spoiling for a fight tonight, aren't you?" sighed Nuriko. "Guess every group of seishi has their token hothead - though in my opinion, Tasuki is worth two of you! All right, if you want a piece of me, let's go!" He hauled Tokaki off into the woods, dragging the taller man easily down the animal paths. Tokaki thought briefly about teleporting out of Nuriko's grasp, but it seemed too much like running away.

When they reached a starlit clearing, Nuriko shoved Tokaki forward, releasing him. The Byakko warrior spun with celestial speed, lashing out at Nuriko - only to find his fist caught in an unyielding, iron grip. Nuriko slowly tightened his grasp, squeezing Tokaki's fist until he was forced to his knees, gasping in pain.

"All right." Teeth gleamed in the shadowed face. "Now that we've gotten the male posturing over with, let's have a serious talk." He released Tokaki's fist, allowing the Byakko warrior to collapse in agony. "None of this is going to work, you know. You could get your own way with Subaru," Nuriko paused, then deliberately chose crude words, "_screwing_ her until you pass out from pleasure; you could beat me to a pulp and strut around like cock-of-the-walk - but none of this is going to bring him back."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Tokaki sullenly, his snowy tresses hiding his face as he knelt cradling his injured hand.

"Then let me spell it out for you. Tamahome. Dead. Gone. Forever." The words were bitten off as if they left a bitter, acrid taste in the speaker's mouth.

"Why should I care?" Tokaki's voice was muffled as he crouched on the ground. "I did my duty by him; I taught him what I could. It's not as if he was a brother warrior…or my…or…or anything! He was Suzaku and I was Byakko…and that's all. I died long before he did, anyway."

Nuriko watched as crystal drops fell silently to the ground, betraying their presence by catching the light of the stars. "But unlike us, he's not coming back. Ever." The words were thick with finality. "And you loved him. Like a…"

"Don't say it!" choked Tokaki. "I have no son! I have no one!"

There was a soft shuffle, a rustle of garments and dead leaves, then Tokaki felt a strong hand gripping his shoulder. "Listen," Nuriko's voice was husky with compassion and grief, "I know how you feel…and you know how I feel. The news of Tama's death hit all of the Suzaku hard, but I think that it hit you and me the hardest. After all, we were the ones who loved him the most. To me, he was the younger brother I never had, and no matter how much you deny it, he was your surrogate son."

The husky voice took on a musing tone. "He would kick my ass for saying this, but there was something about Tamahome that inspired love. He had this _energy, _this vitality and _passion_ for life! He did nothing halfway - especially when it came to money!" Tokaki finally smiled weakly to himself as Nuriko continued to reminisce. "Miaka loved him from the start, and even…I swear that even Nakago, that cold-eyed bastard, felt something for Tamahome! After all, he let Tamahome kill him in the end…" Nuriko's voice trailed off for a moment.

"At any rate," he continued, "I wanted to tell you that I understand what you're going through - and that you're going about it all wrong. You see, I know a little about loss and death from my previous life, and I can tell you that running away from it only makes the pain last longer. The worst thing you can do with the rage and grief is to hurt the person you love."

"Love." The word dripped with bitterness. "I don't believe it. I don't believe in it. If love can die after more than a lifetime together, then what did it ever mean?"

"You really are an idiot!" Nuriko's eyes danced with amusement. "Just because she wouldn't lie down for you when you grabbed her as a comfort toy, you're going to sulk and say she doesn't love you?"

"It wasn't like that!" Tokaki snarled…then stopped as he replayed the events in his mind. "All right, it might have _seemed_ like that - but she has the same memories of our marriage as I do! She used to laugh when I would sneak up on her like that…but now, it's like she's a different person!"

"Like a six-year-old who has been magically aged into a sixteen-year-old?"

Tokaki fell silent, his golden eyes dark with thought.

"And you - a seven-year-old aged to nineteen. Do you mean to tell me that you're behaving exactly the same as you did in your former life? When you met her for the first time in that life, did you throw her on the ground and demand that she 'submit' to you?!" 

"No!" Tokaki was stung by the accusation. "I knew better than to do anything like that! It was _months_ before we…" he trailed off.

"So you're not quite the same person that you once were." Nuriko's voice was gently admonishing. "None of us are, Tokaki; we may have the memories of our past lives, but we're still new people, with slightly different appearances and personalities and quirks. Some of us even have quicker tempers," he said pointedly. "So why should Subaru be expected to behave exactly the same as she did before? Because you _need_ her to be the same? Is that fair?" 

"I never expected Subaru to be a certain way for me; she was always her own person!" Tokaki paused and swallowed. "And that's what scares me," he whispered. "The thought of losing her terrifies me more than the thought of my own annihilation. When she said that she didn't want to be married to me anymore..."

"Right after you tried to force yourself on her, right?"

"I've never forced myself on a woman in my life!" Tokaki stopped. "Before…" he amended guiltily.

"So why start now? If you truly love her, then allow her the space she needs to make up her mind about you. Stop demanding that she remain the person she used to be."

Tokaki sighed and raked a weary hand through hair the color of moonlight. "All right." Nuriko, who appreciated all things beautiful, couldn't help but admire the mystical appearance of his fellow seishi, all gold and silver in the faint light of the stars. Tokaki went on, unaware of Nuriko's smiling gaze. "I'll apologize to her and swear to you on my honor as a Byakko shichiseishi never to act like such a pig-headed boor again. Well, at least as far as Subaru is concerned."

He got to his feet, dusting off his breeches, then extended a hand to Nuriko. The slanted golden eyes tilted further, suddenly gleaming with a playful light. "So, if you considered Tamahome your brother, and I thought of him as my son, does that mean that you think of me as….?"

"Don't hold your breath waiting for me to call you 'Otou-san,'" growled Nuriko.

"Oh, I was thinking that 'Chichi-ue' was more the proper term of respect!"

"How about 'ji-ji!'?!" retorted Nuriko in mock anger, chasing his fellow seishi back toward the campsite.  
   
   
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Subaru huddled in her roll of blankets and the cloak that Nuriko had generously left with her, staring up at the midnight sky and trying to force herself to sleep. Finally she gave up, turning carefully in her swaddled bundle to gaze across the glowing embers of the fire to the blanket-swathed form on the opposite side. The steady rise and fall of the upper portion of his body and the sound of slow, deep breathing told her that he was asleep.

Tears suddenly rose in her eyes at the memory of the misery in his face when he returned with Nuriko, apologizing simply and humbly for his behavior and swearing on his honor never to touch her again. _'Uninvited,'_ corrected her logical mind, but she wasn't feeling very logical right now. Something in her had wanted to rush up to him and fling herself into his arms, sobbing with relief, the way she used to after one of their particularly heated fights…but another part of her had shrunk back from the thought of contact with his hard, muscled body, and the inadvertent promise she would be giving him.

Conflicting thoughts tumbled through her head as she remembered the hard press of his arousal against her. She knew full well what it meant, and she felt a flush of responsive desire as memories, intimate, dark, and warm, flooded her mind. At the same time, something in her quailed in fear at the thought of his raw sexuality and what she would be expected to yield to him.

But why was she so reluctant? She loved him, didn't she? Or did she? Was he really the same man to whom she had pledged her heart in another life? Even if he was, was she the same woman? 

Was she a woman at all…or just a frightened little girl desperately playing at being a woman, so that they…_he_ would never discover her dangerous, damning secret? 

At that thought, she lost control, biting down on her fists to stifle her sobs, the hopeless sobs of a small child. _'Oh, Byakko,' _she prayed silently. _'Please protect your faithful servant! Don't let me be crazy…please don't let me go mad!_  


   
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Hotohori, Nuriko, Tokaki, and Subaru met at daybreak at the top of the rise that separated their two camps. The Genbu seishi had chosen to travel northward through the night instead of setting up camp near their peers, while Mitsukake and Chiriko had remained behind at Mount Taikyoku preparatory to being transported to Miaka's world.

Nuriko noted that Tokaki seemed subdued, only half-heartedly ogling Hotohori's beauty, flashing her a charming but distracted grin. Of course, he may have had the Fear of Nuriko pounded into him the night before, but Nuriko sensed darker shadows behind the slanted eyes. Subaru looked even worse, her pallor and white tresses transforming her into a figure carved from ivory, colorless but for the dark circles under her stormy ocean eyes.

Nuriko started forward, intending to draw Subaru aside and question her once more about her decision to continue on to Sairou with Tokaki, but Hotohori placed a slender, restraining hand on his arm and moved to join Subaru in his place. The two women walked a little way off from the men, cloud-white and tawny heads leaning toward one another as they conversed in soft voices.

Nuriko couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Hotohori. Now that she was absorbed in her conversation with Subaru, he felt free to fix his wondering stare upon her. She was tall for a woman, her height matching his, her legs long and graceful. The chestnut mane was still lush, falling past her waist in a shining cascade, but… there were so many differences! Her sparkling eyes were as thickly lashed as before, but now the lashes frequently veiled the dark gold orbs, imbuing her with an air of mystery. Her jawline was still defined and strong but tapered into a delicate, pointed chin, above which full lips trembled with feeling. Nuriko touched the tip of his tongue to his own lips, imagining for a moment…

"Amazing sight, isn't it?" Nuriko jumped, but it was only Tokaki, moving to his side to gain a better vantage point. The golden eyes were narrowed in appreciation, although Nuriko was relieved to see that Subaru still drew the lion's share of Tokaki's glances. "Snowdrift and golden fields…wild white jasmine against the full-blown Imperial rose." 

Nuriko glanced at him ironically. "You've become poetic in this new incarnation."

"How do you know that I wasn't poetic in my last life? After all, we had never met back then." Tokaki flashed a grin at Nuriko. "However, I'll admit that the view may have inspired me to extend my talents." He sighed deeply. "There they are, the two most beautiful women in this world, and here we are, bound to them night and day yet excluded from their favors." His tone was half-mocking, half-serious.

Nuriko was suddenly, inexplicably irritated. "Speak for yourself!"

"Oh!" Tokaki's dark eyebrows arched up into his trailing white bangs. "Do you mean to say that you and Hotohori have already…?"

"No! And shut up! It isn't like that between us! He's…_she's_ my emperor…um, empress…uh…"

"Sounds like you're confused." Tokaki was unable to repress his somewhat malicious enjoyment of Nuriko's discomfiture. "Let me give you some friendly advice. You're a man, she's a woman. The rest should come naturally."

"You know, I could knock you down as easily as draw my next breath…but I don't want to upset Subaru. So instead, I'm going to see if I can force some daylight into your sex-crazed brain." The violet eyes flashed, and the firm jaw twitched with anger. "Just once, try to think from a point-of-view other than your own. Think back on your last life, your memories of being a man and a warrior, fighting with your weapons and powers. Then imagine waking up in the body of a woman. After the initial shock…" Nuriko's eyes narrowed at Tokaki's grin,"…and knowing _you,_ after a few days of _familiarizing_ yourself with your new body, imagine facing the future knowing that you were a man trapped in the body of a woman. Not temporarily - forever. Or at least for the rest of your life. So tell me…upon meeting up with your brother warriors again, would you be pleased if their attitude was, 'Hey Tokaki, lookin' good - now lay down and spread 'em!'?" 

Tokaki shuddered at the vivid word picture. "Damn! I never thought of it like that! That would be like…"

"A living hell." Nuriko's gaze rested on Hotohori once more. "So regardless of what the future holds for us, no matter what the rest of the world puts Hotohori through, she's going to have at least one person standing by her side who sees the true person she is underneath - Suzaku no Shichiseishi Hotohori, Emperor of Konan."

Tokaki's normally flippant manner had sobered, becoming reflective. "But you told me last night that although our new bodies might have our old memories, they still had their own personalities. So if Hotohori was born a female, won't that mean…?"

"I don't know, I don't know," said Nuriko, suddenly confused. "I don't know what it means! All I know is that..." He trailed off for a moment, then met Tokaki's gaze, his own eyes hard with determination. "All I know is that she matters to me, so I'm not going to make her life any harder than it already is." He paused a moment. "I'm hoping that you're taking my point here. I'll be honest - I'm not entirely comfortable with Subaru's decision."

Tokaki drew himself up. "I gave you my word of honor as a Byakko shichiseishi that she is safe with me. If you feel that my word means nothing, I'm not certain how to convince you otherwise…although I will tell you that you'll have to kill me before I let you take her away against her will." His hand moved to his sword.

"Fair enough." Nuriko maintained his relaxed stance. "I'm trusting your word, Tokaki, so you can quit bristling like a fighting cock. I just wanted some reassurances, and if our positions were reversed, you would feel the same."

"Maybe," grumbled Tokaki, still irritated at the implied insult to his honor.

"Oh, stop your sulking! The last thing we need is to fight among ourselves - don't we have enemies enough? Anyway, here come the women, so take that scowl off your face."

Subaru and Hotohori walked up, chatting easily. Nuriko was impressed that Hotohori had managed to dispel Subaru's tension; Subaru seemed relaxed, even cheerful, smiling at some remark that Hotohori murmured in her ear. Of course, Hotohori had always had that gift, putting his concubines at ease with gentle conversation. A sudden stab of jealousy took Nuriko by surprise. 

"Is something wrong, Nuriko?" Hotohori's voice was low for a woman's, smooth and husky, as dark and rich as crimson velvet.

"Not really." Nuriko reached out and grabbed Tokaki into a head-lock. "I was just feeling bad for Tokaki, because he's going to miss me so _much!_"

Tokaki pulled out of Nuriko's grasp. "In your dreams, bakayarou!" But the white-haired seishi was grinning again, the hostilities dissolving between the two men.

Subaru turned to Hotohori. "I'm going to miss you as well," she said, pressing a gauzy swatch of material into her hand. "Remember what I told you."

Hotohori nodded and tied the scarf around her head, pulling the trailing length across her face to veil her features. Nuriko heaved an internal sigh of relief; Subaru's advice was astute and invaluable, especially since Hotohori had no memories from her previous life of the need to conceal her beauty from unwanted attention.

"Until we meet again, may Byakko keep you in his care, and Suzaku as well." Hotohori gripped Subaru's and Tokaki's hands. 

Nuriko followed suit, dropping his facetious manner now that the time had come to part. Tokaki put his arm up as if to encircle Subaru's shoulders but paused, then dropped his arm again. He stepped back and gave her a polite, abbreviated bow, gesturing toward the horses. Subaru preceded him, her expression drawn and pensive once more.

Nuriko watched as the Byakko seishi galloped over the rise, heading west toward Sairou. He sighed and shook his head. "I hope that everything turns out all right for those two. Subaru seems to be having second thoughts about her decision to go with Tokaki instead of us."

Hotohori stared at him curiously. "What makes you say that?"

"Just now…just as they were leaving, she seemed upset that he tried to put his arm around her. Tokaki kept to his word and changed his mind, but I think that Subaru is afraid that he'll try to touch her again."

"No, that's not it." The velvet tones were firm and decisive. "She's upset that he _didn't_ put his arm around her, and she's afraid that he _won't_ try to touch her again." 

"Wha-at?!" Nuriko was thoroughly confused. "Since when has she…did she tell you that earlier?"

"No, we didn't discuss the situation between her and Tokaki."

"So how do you know…?"

Hotohori shrugged one elegant shoulder. "It's obvious, isn't it?" She turned and headed toward her own mount.

Nuriko opened and closed his mouth a few times before deciding that he looked foolish enough without asking any inane questions. Shaking his head, he turned and followed the graceful figure of his emperor as she turned her horse toward the South Road to Eiyou.

   
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 **  
   
Tokyo  
  
   
**Yui peered nervously around the back corner of the library building, looking down the deserted utility drive for patrolling security cars. Tetsuya and Keisuke were half a building behind her, bent over a passcode keypad that they had unscrewed from its place beside the loading dock door. Keisuke carefully detached two wires with his computer microtools, then began tapping in patterns of numbers, his fingers flying over the keypad in a complex, fractal dance. Tetsuya held a penlight over the keypad indicator, whispering instructions and suggestions while looking for the green LED light that signaled the correct passcode.

Suddenly, two long beams of light appeared at the far end of the drive, accompanied by the crunch of tires on gravel. Yui turned and dashed over to Keisuke and Tetsuya. "Security! We have to hide!"

Tetsuya touched Keisuke's arm, but the other man shook his head. "Almost there!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "If I drop this now, we'll have to start over - and that's only if security doesn't spot the hanging wires. Just a few more seconds!"

Yui glanced back anxiously at the brightening light in the side drive. She bit her lip and shifted from foot-to-foot, but neither she nor Tetsuya made any move to desert Keisuke. The security car was now so close that she could hear the crackle of its two-way radio. Any moment now it would round the corner, and its headlights would illuminate them as if they were on stage…

"Got it!" The door clicked, and Tetsuya leaped and shoved it open. Yui dived in after him, while Keisuke paused only long enough to shove the keypad back in place. They pushed the door shut and crouched behind it, gasping for breath as their hearts hammered painfully against their chests. The window above them grew bright with yellow light, and they held their breaths as the brakes gave a low squeal. The light stayed bright in the window…then finally dimmed as the car continued onward, the sound of crunching gravel receding into the distance.

Once they were certain the car was gone, they made their way to the emergency stairwell in the back of the building, climbing swiftly and silently to the third floor. Careful manipulation of Keisuke's credit card opened the locked stairwell door, admitting them into the dimly lit corridors of the research section of the library. Yui paused one moment, shivering at a cool prickling at the back of her neck. Keisuke and Tetsuya looked at her in concern.

"I don't know," she said softly, replying to their questioning eyes. "There's definitely something going on here…but I can't tell if it's another one of those creatures or just the presence of the Universe of the Four Gods. We''ll have to be careful!"

They crept cautiously along the corridors, peering around corners until they finally found themselves before the worn wooden door labeled "References and Important Literature." Keisuke held up his credit card, preparing to slide it past the lock, when the door suddenly glowed with a soft sapphire light, then clicked and swung open.

Tetsuya cast a sidelong glance at Yui. Her eyes were wide, their blue depths shining with the same sapphire light that had surrounded the door. She moved forward as if in a trance, unblinking and resolute. "Hold on there, Seiryuu no Miko!" Tetsuya grasped her arm. "We're supposed to be careful, remember?"

Yui blinked and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just that…I can feel it calling me. It wants me to find it!"

"Fine, that's what we're here to do. But we don't want you being pulled into the Book again, at least not alone - so make sure that you hold onto us! Keisuke, take her other arm!"

Linked together, the three friends walked through the stacks, guided by Yui's instincts. Suddenly she halted, stooping down and grasping at a slender, worn volume shoved back among larger, newer tomes. As she pulled it out into the open, the kanji on the cover began to pulse with the same sapphire light they had seen earlier.

"The ShiJinTenChiSho!" Keisuke's eyes were aglow with excitement. "But blue this time instead of red…"

"Seiryuu, not Suzaku," observed Tetsuya shrewdly. "Although I'd be a little happier if it _was_ Suzaku…er, no offense, Seiryuu!" Tetsuya felt a little stupid apologizing to a book, but he'd rather be safe than sorry. Suddenly, the light changed, shading to a violet hue. "Er, either that's a fifth god, or…"

"No, it's Suzaku joining Seiryuu," Yui replied absently, not noticing the looks that Tetsuya and Keisuke were exchanging over her head. Caught up in the book's power, she had already opened it and was perusing the pages eagerly. "Let's see…" She scanned the kanji, paling and turning the pages quickly past the account of the attack on Tamahome. Suddenly she sucked in her breath in a shocked hiss.

"Miaka?!" asked Keisuke, guessing at the cause of her distress. "Tell us, Yui!"

"They were attacked as soon as they reached the ShiJin; it was an ambush! But wait…Chichiri drew off the attack, and Miaka and Tasuki - they got away!"

Keisuke slumped back against the shelves in relief, but Tetsuya frowned in concern. "What happened to Chichiri?"

"I don't know yet…I can't tell! He had planned to follow the creatures, but it gets a little muddled here; I just don't know…" Yui frowned as she began to read of Miaka's spell-induced memory loss.

"Damn it! Chichiri was supposed to get word to Taiitsukun that we needed help! Look, Yui, see if there's anything written about us there."

Yui obediently flipped the pages ahead, looking for any mention of them by name or title. She stopped, frowned at a passage, then flipped back again to read the preceding pages. Her eyes opened wide.

"What is it?!" Keisuke and Tetsuya crowded next to her on the floor, craning their necks to read over her shoulder.

Yui pointed to a section that looked new, the ink gleaming as if still wet. "Remember the seishi children that Chichiri told us about? They came under attack as well, so to help them protect themselves, Taiitsukun and the gods have aged them so that they're all grown up!"

"Yatta!" It was the first smile that Tetsuya had given all night. "Maybe they'll send Nuriko here - he's really strong! Or Hotohori and his sword…or maybe both!"

Yui shook her heads slowly, biting her lip. "Nooooo…um, Tetsuya, they're sending us Mitsukake and Chiriko."

__

_"What?!"_ Tetsuya was unable to control his outrage. "Here we are under attack from those demon creatures, and all Taiitsukun's going to do is send us the two most useless seishi in the book?!"

"Tetsuya, that's not fair," admonished Keisuke. "They died just as heroically as any of the other Suzaku seishi."

"Fine, but I'm not looking to die heroically along with them! We need someone who can help us _beat_ those things! What can Chiriko or Mitsukake do - throw calculus equations or band-aid bubbles at those beasts till they keel over?!"

Keisuke opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted when Yui suddenly seized his and Tetsuya's arms in a death grip. "Listen!" she hissed. The men lifted their heads but could hear nothing. Nonetheless, Yui grew very pale. "We have to get out of here! NOW!"

Snatching up the book, she turned and raced past the stacks, Tetsuya and Keisuke close on her heels. They burst out of the Important Literature room into the darkened corridor. Yui, guided by her strange insight, flinched back from the emergency stairwell and pulled the two men towards the main staircase that wound down beneath the vaulted glass foyer ceiling. They flew down the stairs, leaping past the second floor and continuing until they skidded onto the polished marble tiles of the reception area, no longer caring if they registered on the security cameras. Just as they glanced toward the electronically locked main doors, a low metallic hiss echoed through the foyer. 

"Shit!" Keisuke looked around desperately for cover, pulling them behind the half-circle of the circulation desk. They crouched on the floor, trying to control their panicked gasps for breath. 

The hiss sounded again, this time accompanied by the scrape of metallic claws against marble. The pencils vibrated in their holders from the shock of each weighty footfall of the huge creature. Yui pressed back against the men, willing herself not to give away their hiding place this time. She looked through terror-blurred eyes at the bookstacks receding into the depths of the first floor, wondering if they could make a break for it and dash through the long rows before the creature could catch them.

At that moment, a figure appeared at the far end of the row of bookshelves. It wasn't more than medium height, but it glowed scarlet with the concentrated force of its ki. Yui blinked, trying to clear her vision…was the figure male or female? She could only make out light-colored hair pulled up into a high ponytail, shimmering behind the dancing sparkles of ki energy.

Yui dug her fingers into the men as the demon creature's hiss sounded right above their heads. She closed her eyes in despair…but heard the heavy footfalls moving rapidly past the circulation desk, taking off in pursuit of the tantalizing ki energy at the back of the stacks. Yui had an impression of swirling darkness filling her vision, jointed legs and leathery wings flashing toward the glow at the end of the stacks. Keisuke and Tetsuya pulled her forward, intending to make a break for it while the beast was distracted, but something made Yui pull back, gazing desperately after the scarlet figure that had saved them.

Just when she thought that the beast was about to seize it, the figure turned and ran around the back of the stacks. The creature leaped forward…and at that exact moment, another figure, tall and gangly, stepped out from where he had been concealed behind the adjacent row. He swung a huge broadsword at the extended neck of the beast, severing it with a squelching thunk. The body of the beast crashed down, its long tail thrashing against the shelves and tipping them over. There was a thundering crunch of cracking wood and the sequential thunks of cascading books as three whole rows of bookshelves went down like dominoes, raising a cloud of concealing dust.

Yui, Tetsuya, and Keisuke stood gaping at the destruction, stunned into immobility. The sound of footsteps accompanied by a dragging slither made them raise their eyes fearfully towards the next intact row of bookshelves.

The shorter figure appeared first, his features clear now that he no longer glowed with scarlet light. He looked to be nearly Yui's age, compact and graceful, with long chestnut hair tied in a high ponytail and moss-green eyes shining with self-satisfaction. Behind him came a younger but much taller figure with short dark hair, his gangly limbs showing their true power as he dragged the serpentine head and neck of the beast behind him.

A powerful feeling swelled in Yui's breast as she gazed at them; not only gratitude but also some strange sense of connection and recognition. She moved toward them with the regality of a priestess…then bowed humbly before them. "Arigatou gozaimasu, Suzaku no Chiriko, Suzaku no Mitsukake."

Keisuke jabbed an elbow into his best friend's side. "Not so useless after all, eh, Tetsuya?" he murmured. Laughter tinged with hysteria and relief bubbled out of him. "Calculus equations and band-aids notwithstanding!"

   
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 **  
   
Asteroid belt outside the ShiJinTenChiSho**  
   
  
A small silvery-blue ball of feathers hunched near a cold metal wall, bright bird eyes peering out at the surrounding landscape. The sky was obscured by a shimmering shield of greyish light, devoid of warmth or life. A chill, dry wind blew clouds of brown dust across the rocky panorama, no trees or glimmer of water interrupting the relentlessly grim landscape.

Satisfied that it was alone and unobserved, the small phoenix rose to its tiny feet, spreading its wings wide. Scarlet light suffused its form as it began to stretch and grow, rising and changing until at last a man stood in its place, gasping for breath in the thin, low oxygen atmosphere. The wind whipped his kesa around his slender form as he turned and began feeling his way along the metal wall, hoping to find an opening in its smooth span.

He blinked as dust blew into his eye, gripping his shakujou as if gripping onto his last hold on reality. He didn't have any idea as to where he was or how to get back…he only knew, with deep, gut-wrenching dread, that he was very, _very_ far from home.  
   
  


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**Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

Otou-san - Father (respectful)

Chichi-ue - Father (_Highly_ respectful form of address, meaning something like "Lord Father.")

Ji-ji! - old fart! (disrespectful ^ ~)

Shikuso! - Shit!

Yatta! - Hurray! (a cheer)

Arigatou gozaimasu! - Thank you very much (very polite)  
   
  


  
Author's notes (2-21-04) * shivers * Brrrrrrrrrrr, poor Chichiri! And the worst is yet to come. Is it just me, or do I seem to be in a "torture Chichiri" rut lately?

'Lately' being a relative term, of course. Bet you guys thought I fell off the face of the planet, right? Well, you're pretty close to being correct - life has been very fractal for me these past four weeks since I last updated. It's been damn difficult to get any computer time at all, and when I did, I often ended up nodding off in exhaustion. However, through hard work, determination, and threats to my loved ones to leave me alone on the computer this weekend, I finally managed to finish this chapter before I left on a much-needed vacation.

By now, you're probably getting a pretty good idea of how vast and complex "Hidden Paths" is going to be. In this one chapter alone, I have four different storylines starting out, encompassing ten canon characters including five Suzaku seishi, two Byakko seishi, and one Seiryuu priestess with friends. And that doesn't even include Tasuki and Miaka for once! Never fear, though, Tasuki/Miaka fans - they will be back in the next chapter with a vengeance!

I would like to thank Kaze-chan once again for the generous loan of her Byakko history. There are, of course, differences between her and my interpretations of Subaru and Tokaki, but remember that I am depicting their reincarnated versions as opposed to the Byakko-summoning versions in "Market." By the way, if you feel in need of a REALLY good fanfic, and you haven't done so already, go read "It Was a Normal Day In the Market." Then write to Kaze-chan and beat her over the head to get her to FINISH that enthralling fic!

Speaking of finishing fics…yes, Bridge fans, I AM going back to that story soon and releasing you from my cruel tenterhooks. It's becoming obvious, especially with Chichiri's storyline in Hidden Paths, that Bridge must be finished before I can get much further on this fic. However, before I go back to Bridge, I'm stopping off at Casting Stones - don't scream, because that poor fic has not been updated since September 2003! I have to get back to it before its fans write it off as abandoned, just like Purple Mouse's "Yet Another Story." (By the way, Mouse-chan, if you happen to be reading this, and you think that I'm putting the screws to you - you're _right! _Me and about 700 other fans of that fic!)

Anyway, thank you for sticking with me through the last two chapters of Hidden Paths. I think that you're beginning to see how HP is truly the sequel to Bridge, especially when you consider its complexity and scope. I'm merciless in my refusal to simplify or "dumb down" either Hidden Paths or Bridge, because I have faith in you, my select group of readers, and your ability to track with the intricate twistings of my convoluted plots. However, please don't think that I don't appreciate the effort you put in to read each epic chapter…I do appreciate you, more than you can ever realize. (bows deeply) Arigatou gozaimasu!  


   
Ja ne!  
 

   
Roku 

  
  



	10. Chasms and bridges

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Special Note: Due to the increased action throughout the ShiJinTenChiSho, Earth, and certain otherworldly sites, some chapters (such as this one) will have location headings to let you know exactly where the action is taking place. Think of it as jumping from scene to scene in a movie - which is exactly the way this story plays through my mind.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

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**Chapter 10. Chasms and bridges**

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The Imperial Palace in Eiyou

-

The tall golden roofs of the Imperial Palace rose majestically over the bustling city below. From a distance, one would think that one was observing the luxurious accommodations of a powerful ruler, overlooking a wealthy and prosperous capital city. However, upon closer inspection one saw that the market stalls held sparse amounts of goods, haggled over by a populace with drawn, weary faces. Above, the palace gates stood firm and strong, yet the scarlet paint flaking from the ironwork bore mute testimony to privation and neglect.

Suzaku no Shichiseishi Nuriko stood examining the gates with violet eyes widened in shock. Although Taiitsukun had warned him of the trials of post-war Konan, her words did not prepare him for the emotional wrench he felt upon witnessing with his own eyes the decline of the once-proud Imperial City. He glanced at his companion, expecting her expression to be equally, if not more, appalled than his…but Hotohori kept her eyes downcast, concealing her thoughts behind her veil and lowered lashes.

Nurilo felt a surge of unreasonable irritation with his companion. Nine days of travel across some of the roughest country in Konan, and still he felt as distant from Hotohori as the day they were transformed. Never once had she opened up to him about any of her doubts, fears or troubles, despite his gentle forays into conversation with her. She had replied to his queries as briefly as possible while remaining polite, all the while maintaining her air of distant introspection. Well, he had had just about _enough_ of her mysterious airs, and if she didn't snap out of it in the next day or so, she could expect to become the recipient of a good, hard shake from her one-time concubine!

That thought and its attendant musings on the radical changes in their roles gave Nuriko a very familiar headache. He turned his increasingly bad temper on the palace gates, banging against the bars with the hilt of his sword. "Ho, Imperial Guard!" he shouted, angry at the lax security.

The metallic hiss of drawn swords clued him into his mistake. Four members of the Imperial Guard stood before him as if they had materialized out of thin air, their blades drawn and ready. Nuriko glanced at subtle movement in the trees around the gate and realized that he and Hotohori were in the target sights of at least four archers. The swift and silent appearance of the guard provoked strange memories from his last life: the deadly stealth of a group of mountain bandits, a red-haired bandit swinging down through the trees and snatching him up… Nuriko pushed those thoughts out of his mind and sheathed his sword, recognizing that his rash actions had placed Hotohori in peril of being killed by his own guard. He held up his hands in a placating gesture…but it was Hotohori's velvet tones that rang out before Nuriko could release his indrawn breath.

"We don't wish for any trouble. We beg your patience, as we are strangers here." Hotohori lifted one elegant hand and dropped the veil that concealed her features. If he hadn't been so concerned for Hotohori's safety, Nuriko might have laughed at the rapid change in expressions of the scowling guards. Their eyes widened in surprise and appreciation of the beauty who stood before them. Only the Captain of the Guard, an older man from the look of him, retained his scowl--but it had changed to a scowl of confusion as he blinked his eyes in disbelief.

Hotohori continued smoothly through the shocked silence. "I am a distant relative of the Imperial family, and I have traveled far to request an audience with the Dowager Empress. Would you be so kind as to carry a message to the Empress, begging her indulgence on my behalf?" Three of the younger guards nearly fell over in their eagerness to serve the mysterious woman, but the Captain snarled out a command, freezing them in their tracks.

The Captain stalked up to the gate. "We serve the Emperor Reizeitei and the Dowager Empress Houki, not strangers with impertinent requests! We received no instructions to expect guests arriving at the palace gates."

Hotohori met the Captain's suspicious glare with calm and limpid eyes. "We do not claim that the Empress expects us; however, our business with her is urgent and important." An undercurrent of iron surfaced in her velvet tones. "There is no breach in protocol nor in palace security in the carrying of an urgent message; however, the refusal to allow the Imperial family access to friends and allies who bring critical news _may_ be considered an obstruction to the best interests of Konan!"

The Captain blinked and stepped back, unconsciously yielding to the command in the young woman's voice. In fact, the sudden change in her demeanor from polite supplicant to steely authoritarian irresistibly reminded the Captain of the late emperor. There was no doubt that this young woman was related to that promising but tragic legendary figure, especially when one took into account the obvious family resemblance. He cleared his throat. "My apologies, Lady. I did not mean to be an obstruction to any important information intended for the Royal Family. I myself will carry your message to the Dowager Empress."

Nuriko glanced at Hotohori, sensing her sudden hesitation. He turned and walked to his horse, returning with a tablet and a charcoal crayon. "Here," he said, scribbling a single line, followed by the kanji for 'willow.' "Take this to Hou…, er, Her Highness. We will wait here for her reply." He offered the tablet to the Captain, bowing politely. As the man cantered off, Nuriko returned to Hotohori's side, resigning himself to a long wait.

However, it was less than twenty minutes before the Captain galloped back into sight, out of breath and obviously agitated. "The Empress will see you at once!"

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Nuriko waited before the intricately carved doors to the throne room, feeling his heart beat rapidly in his throat. He glanced over at Hotohori, wondering if she was half as nervous as he. Her features were concealed behind her veil once again, but the slight trembling in her hands gave her away. Well, he had very little sympathy for her. This whole thing was her idea, and for the hundredth time in the last few hours, Nuriko wished that they had never come to Eiyou. He was overcome with the desire to bolt screaming out of the palace while he still had the chance.

To distract himself from panic-generated random thoughts, Nuriko tried to focus on the details of their surroundings. The corridors were as airy and light-filled as ever, spotlessly clean and well-kept, but there were obvious empty places where once rich tapestries or jade statuary had resided. The entire palace exuded the tenuous feeling of a beloved domicile of a noble family that had fallen on hard times.

Long before either of them was ready, the doors swung open, and Imperial guards took their places along the aisle leading up to the jade throne. As they walked forward, Nuriko looked anywhere but at the throne, noting that instead of a complete wall of soldiers leading up to the dais, there now stood only eight or ten guardsmen. Before he knew it, their progress was halted at the foot of the wide dais.

Nuriko finally lifted his eyes to the slight figure leaning forward in the throne, dwarfed by all of the intricate decoration surrounding her. She was tinier than he remembered, delicate and fragile, her once blooming complexion paled by strain, her enormous eyes marked by dark circles beneath and tiny lines radiating from the corners. Yet somehow she seemed even more beautiful than before, the character lines in her face lending her countenance a heartbreaking poignancy. How could any man look upon her and not want to hold her, comfort her, swear his undying fealty to her?

His love for her must have shone from his eyes as he finally met her gaze, for her own eyes filled with tears. To the complete shock of the Imperial Guard, the Dowager Empress flew off the throne and flung herself into the arms of the stranger.

"I knew it was you!" she sobbed. "I wasn't certain, even after reading your note…but I knew that I had to see for myself! And no sooner had I seen you walking toward me than I _knew!_ You always gave yourself away by that walk, didn't you know? Even in your dresses, you would become angry or forgetful, and suddenly you would be striding forward like a man with a mission!"

Nuriko held her, stunned by the outpouring of emotion washing over him. She had been his best friend so many years ago, but he had had no idea of how much he had meant to her until this moment.

Houki continued to cling to him as if he would disappear if she loosened her grip for even a moment. "I don't know how this happened or why; I only thank the gods that you're back! I've missed you so much, Nuriko! I've needed you so much…and I never had the chance to tell you goodbye!"

She was crying bitterly now, almost losing control before the anxious glances of the guards. Nuriko knew that he had to calm her and help her regain her balance--before completely shattering it with the shocking revelation that stood quietly to one side observing them.

"Shhhh, Houki-chan, don't cry, Funny Face. Why should you tell me goodbye when I've only just arrived?" He saw her smile weakly through her tears at his old nicknames for her; names that no one, not even Hotohori, knew.

She gulped in a breath of air and smiled up at him. "So you're here to stay? You won't leave me again?"

Nuriko felt a stab of guilt at his earlier ardent wish to stay far away from her and the Imperial City. He glanced up, only to see some of the guards staring openly, while others looked away discreetly. He flushed; Houki obviously didn't understand the sort of impression she was giving to her own guard by her desperate clinging to a young man who was a complete stranger to them.

He caught her shoulders gently, pushing her back and murmuring in her ear, "Houki, can we have some privacy for a moment?"

She blinked and looked around, blushing red as she saw the averted eyes of the guard. "Of course! Guard, you are dismissed!"

The Lieutenant of the Guard stepped forward hesitantly. "Heika, may I respectfully request to remain in the throne room? I will step back to the perimeter…"

"Thank you, but there is no need, Lieutenant. This is my trusted friend of many years, and you need not fear for my safety, since the Minister will remain here as well."

At that moment, a soberly robed man raised a hand and acknowledged the guard from his position in an alcove near the throne, where he had stood unseen by the guests. The guard turned and exited upon his unspoken command. The advisor's kind face was familiar, although more deeply lined than Nuriko remembered it, and his salt-and-pepper hair and beard were now more salt than pepper.

"Lord Ashida!" exclaimed Hotohori involuntarily, breaking her long silence and bringing the attention of both Houki and Ashida to fix on her. She blushed and lowered her eyes, concealing their striking--and familiar--hue.

Lord Ashida narrowed his eyes and examined the veiled woman, his keen eyes studying what details he could discern. "You know me, Lady?"

"Yes," Hotohori replied faintly.

Nuriko realized that he could no longer put off the time for all revelations. "Houki-chan…Lord Ashida…I wish that our only purpose in contacting you was for a joyful reunion, but as you've probably deduced from the fact that I'm here at all, I've brought news of serious developments. These dark tidings are not only for Konan but for every country of the ShiJinTenChiSho."

Lord Ashida's eyes flashed. "So I feared from the time I first glimpsed you, Nuriko-sama. Yet before we continue, let me say how very good it is to see you again! Whatever darkness threatens us, I for one am happy that we have one of the most powerful warriors of the Suzaku Seven standing once more in our defense! However, if you will not take offense, may I say that you have…changed from how I last remembered you."

"Yes, I've changed; I'm not the miraculous embodiment of the late Chou Ryuuen--I'm a new person with Nuriko's reincarnate soul. I have all of the memories and abilities of Suzaku no Nuriko…but I'm a different man, it's true." Nuriko surprised himself with the insights that had just come tumbling out of his mouth. Where did this knowledge come from? Did Taiitsukun place it in his head, or could they be the innate perceptions of his new incarnation?

Houki flushed and looked uncertain, obviously wondering who exactly she had been hugging just a few moments ago. Nuriko felt a pang at her sudden distance from him, knowing that the worst was yet to come.

"How did this come about?" Lord Ashida went straight to the point, as usual.

Nuriko explained about the attacks on the seishi children and the subsequent measures that Taiitsukun and the gods had been forced into enacting as a last resort. Houki and Lord Ashida had already known of the attacks on the Seiryuu children from Tasuki and Chichiri's mission, so news of the shadow beasts did not shock them. However, Houki, obviously bursting with curiosity, kept her eyes fixed on the enigmatic figure of the veiled woman. Finally she interrupted Nuriko.

"Do I understand that_ all_ of the reincarnate seishi were aged to adulthood?"

"Young adulthood, yes, with the exception of the Seiryuu twins and, of course, the missing Seiryuu children."

"Were any souls left at Mount Taikyoku…or were all of the seishi souls reincarnated?"

Nuriko had seen this question burning in Houki's eyes. "No souls were left behind; we had all been born into new bodies."

"So who is this you have brought with you, Nuriko?" Houki's voice was trembling with emotion.

Nuriko paused, unsure of how to handle this moment…but Hotohori took matters into her own hands, dropping her veil and lifting dark gold eyes to meet Houki's questioning gaze.

Lord Ashida nearly buckled at the knees from shock, but a radiant smile burst from Houki's features as she darted across the floor and flung herself into Hotohori's arms. "Heika!" she cried joyfully, grasping desperately at the beloved figure, holding the slender form close to her own, subconsciously noting that her lord was now shorter, slighter…softer…

Houki pulled back confused, examining the features of the person in her arms. She took in the blooming countenance, the full, curved lips--

"Heika!" she choked, feeling her grip on reality recede as the ground beneath her feet seemed to crumble away into nothingness.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Nuriko paced anxiously before the closed door of the Dowager Empress' private quarters. Although Houki had regained consciousness shortly after Nuriko had caught her from Hotohori's arms, Lord Ashida had insisted that she undergo a complete examination by the palace physicians. The minister had handled the situation with his usual aplomb, gesturing to Hotohori to re-veil and taking the Empress into his own arms before sending Nuriko to call the guard.

Houki had exerted her will as well, agreeing to see the palace doctors on the condition that the news of her collapse be kept from the young emperor. "He has enough to occupy his thoughts, with his lessons and all. I don't wish him to worry about his mother's foolishness!" So the deal was struck, and now Nuriko and Hotohori waited by royal command to be re-admitted into Houki's presence.

Hotohori had said nothing from the time of Houki's collapse, but her eyes were dark and troubled. Nuriko felt guilty and at the same time impatient with Hotohori. Damn it, didn't she _ever_ have anything to say? She had never been this aloof in her last life! At this point in his jumbled thoughts, the door swung open, and Lord Ashida stepped out to escort them into the Empress' presence.

Houki sat in a brocaded chair by the open window, apparently enjoying the cool evening breeze. She waved the hovering physicians out of the room, her countenance pale but composed. Nuriko and Hotohori approached and bowed deeply, touching their foreheads to the ground.

"Please rise--don't bow like that to me, either of you!" Houki's voice held an agitated edge.

Nuriko and Hotohori hastened to obey. Nuriko met Houki's gaze, his own eyes dark with anxiety. "Heika," he began but changed when she closed her eyes as if in pain, "I mean, Houki…I'm worried about you."

"Nuriko…" she breathed, keeping her eyes closed--and his name was like a prayer on her lips. "When I hear your voice, it's almost as if everything has gone back in time, as if my best friend still stood before me…" she paused and opened her eyes, "…but when I look at you--_both_ of you--I know that things will never be the same."

A lump rose in Nuriko's throat. "I still care about you, Houki. Nothing will ever change that."

Finally she smiled at him, but it was the world-weary smile of a woman who had seen much and believed little. Nuriko felt as if he were staring at her across a wide chasm, a chasm neither of them knew how to bridge.

"Houki; Little Bird…what did the doctors say?"

Nuriko stared in shock at hearing Hotohori address Houki so familiarly--but why shouldn't she? Hadn't they been spouses…_lovers_ in her last life? And why was that thought as sharp as a werewolf's claw in his breast?

Houki, however, responded to the beloved voice, pushing back her weariness and sorrow to force a smile. "I'm fine. You needn't worry, Heika. The doctors tell me that I'm working too hard, but then again, you know what that's like."

Hotohori laughed, her voice deep and rich. "Ah yes, I do remember!" She moved toward Houki and knelt beside her chair, taking the Empress' hand in her own. "But, Little Bird, I'm 'Heika' no longer. Not a drop of royal blood runs in these veins, I'm afraid." She squeezed Houki's hand while giving her a conspiratorial smile.

Houki's mood seemed to lighten. "No accident of birth can change your intrinsic nobility. But what am I to call you? What is your given name?"

"Shoda Saito…but you may call me 'Sai.'"

Houki gave a genuine laugh. Nuriko stood stunned, both by Hotohori's sudden loquacity and the easy camaraderie that had sprung up between the two women. One would never guess that they had a painful dilemma before them. And how did he end up being the one on the outside looking in? 'Because that's all you've ever been,' whispered some bitter, jealous voice inside his head, a voice that refused to be shrugged away.

Houki and Hotohori had gone on with their conversation during Nuriko's dark musings, sharing news of the palace doings and the struggles to bring Konan back to its former prosperity. Finally the conversation came back to the obvious.

"So, how are you, Hei…Sai? This must be difficult for you. One wonders if the gods laugh at us at times."

Hotohori shrugged. "I'm as new as a baby chick in this body, so it's early days yet. There are times when the past rises up and confuses me…but perhaps that happens to all of us who hold memories of another life. Is that true, Nuriko?"

Nuriko jumped, startled at being brought into the conversation and even more startled by Hotohori exchanging more than three words with him. He snorted, half in amusement, half in…something else. "_Confusing_ doesn't begin to describe it. And yes, Houki, I, too, wonder if we exist for the amusement of our gods."

Hotohori's voice grew soft and contemplative. "Yet we are alive by their grace. I can endure my god's laughter if I believe that He weeps for me as well."

There was a moment of silence, then Hotohori spoke again. "Houki, how is our…how is Boushin?"

Houki's eyes gleamed with maternal pride. "He is a truly amazing person, Sai! He has this vein of seriousness, this air of introspection…then suddenly, out of nowhere, he will pull the most _outrageous_ prank, just to prove that he has a sense of humor! Yet he takes the role of emperor seriously; too seriously at times. I urge him to run and play and make friends, for the times that he can act like a child are growing short and far-between."

Hotohori smiled softly at her. "I always knew that you would be a wonderful mother."

Once again, Nuriko battled back the feelings of bitter jealousy. This was ludicrous, to be envious of a warm friendship between two women--yet he knew that he was seeing the vestiges of the profound love between a once-married couple, the deep bond between two people who had created a new life between them. It was a level of intimacy that he had never known in his past life...and might never know in this life. He swallowed hard, wishing for some way that he might excuse himself from their presence, leaving them to talk and laugh and share without him bearing reluctant witness.

Once again, his introspection had caused him to lose the thread of conversation between Hotohori and Houki. The next thing he knew, they were making arrangements for Hotohori to meet with Boushin the next day, incognito of course.

Houki waved a finger in mock warning. "And since the young emperor is nearly ten years old, he no longer wishes to be addressed by his 'baby name' and prefers to be called Reizeitei, his Imperial name."

Hotohori laughed. "Emperor Reizeitei it is! Now I will ask Lord Ashida to escort me to my quarters, for I believe that you two wish some time alone to catch up with one another. Oyasumi nasai!" With a swift turn, she exited the chambers before Nuriko had a chance to protest.

A heavy silence fell between the once-close friends. Nuriko felt that the situation was hovering between absurd and tragic and began to speak--exactly at the same time as Houki. They laughed self-consciously, begged the other to start, and ended up talking over one another again. An uncomfortable silence took over once more.

Nuriko squared his shoulders and took the plunge. "What Hotohori said about past life memories was absolutely correct; it can be confusing, even overwhelming. The worst thing about knowing what you had…is knowing what you've lost." He raised his eyes to Houki's. "Back in the throne room, I thought that we could have it all again, but now I know that I've changed too much to expect you to... But I still miss you, Funny Face."

Tears spilled out of Houki's eyes at the beloved nickname, a mocking reference to the startling resemblance between the two former Imperial concubines. Houki leaned forward and caught Nuriko's hand, drawing it to her cheek. "I missed you as well, Nuri-ko-rin! Your last letter--I received your last letter a few days after we learned…it broke my heart! There was so much that I wanted to tell you, so much that I needed to share with you…and I thought that I had lost you forever!"

The words poured out of her in a torrent, fast and breathless, as if Nuriko were a ghost who would disappear at the moon's rising. "You were so happy in that letter--and so sad. You had given up on Hotohori-sama and entrusted him to my care, and I could tell behind your cheerful words that the decision had hurt you. Yet you went on focusing on what was good in your life; your love for Miaka and for your brother seishi. Receiving that letter was like receiving your blessing and your strength from beyond the grave. I wanted so much to have the chance to thank you--but I knew I never would!" She was crying openly now, the sobs wracking her slight form.

Nuriko gathered her into his arms, marveling at her fragility. Had he ever been so slight himself? "Hush, Funny Face, you're talking nonsense! Didn't you thank me just now? After today, how can you not believe in second chances?" He stroked her long violet locks, so like his own, until she grew quiet.

Finally she spoke, her voice hushed and serious. "You're right, of course, Nuri-ko-rin…but like all gifts from the gods, there is more to second chances than meets the eye. Today, I received back both my friend and my husband, and yet possess neither. For my husband is now a woman with no room for me in her life, and my friend…I hurt my friend, and in return saw his eyes fix on me with anger and dislike." She lifted her head from where it rested against Nuriko's chest, her gaze both earnest and sad. "Had I known that you and I and Hotohori-sama would all be reunited in this life, I would never have taken your place at his side!"

Nuriko stared back, dumbstruck. A flush of shame stole into his cheeks. "Never say that, Houki-chan! And never let my foolishness make you say such things. Would you deny Konan her present Emperor out of fear of my jealous glances? It was envy that you saw in my eyes, not dislike! You know what a jealous creature I've always been; don't you remember how I tortured Miaka when we first met? I even kissed Tamahome to get at her!"

Houki giggled at last; the memories of Nuriko's bold stratagems to dispose of all rivals for Hotohori's affections made them both laugh. However, Houki soon returned to sober reflection. "It's a curious thing that you envy me, Nuriko. Ever since this afternoon--I've envied you."

"Me? Whatever for?"

"Did you hear Hotohori-sama's name for me? Little Bird? That was our private joke, referring to his feeling of being a bird trapped in the gilded cage of royalty. I was his companion bird, willingly walking into the trap to share his life. The funny thing is that I no sooner walked into the cage than he escaped, leaving me behind. So here I remain, singing for the masses, never showing weakness or doubt, doing my best to hold the bars apart so that my child may enjoy what days of freedom he has left. Hotohori-sama was trapped by duty--but I am trapped by love. So as I watch you prepare to leave with the one you love, free of the expectations placed upon royalty…I am envious."

Nuriko gathered her close in his arms once again. "What foolish creatures we are," he whispered into her hair. "Envying each other when we should simply love one another. What I envied was your close relationship with Hotohori. Since we've been reincarnated, she speaks to me only when necessary. I feel further removed from her than when I was sequestered in the concubine quarters in my last life. I only wish that I was free of these damn memories, so that she wouldn't have the power to hurt me any longer!" He stopped, appalled at his own outburst.

Houki, however, took it in stride. "The willingness to be hurt is the willingness to be loved. Don't blame her, Nuriko; she must be very confused right now. At least you know who you are, while I suspect that she is just beginning to find out. Have faith--and try to keep in mind what the word 'soulmate' truly means."

With that, Houki gently extricated herself from his embrace, led him to the door and warmly wished him goodnight.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

The next morning found Hotohori and Nuriko once more waiting nervously for an audience with royalty, but this time they were in the Shrine of Suzaku, standing before the display of the weapons and artifacts of the deceased shichiseishi. Mitsukake's bottle of healing water sat dim and translucent beside Chiriko's ornate scroll. Nuriko traced a loving finger across the surface of the heavy gold bracelets whose transformation into gauntlets of superhuman strength could only be effected by himself or the Suzaku no Miko. Above all gleamed the Holy Sword of Suzaku, unsheathed above its scabbard, last wielded by Hotohori's spirit in the final battle against Nakago.

Light footsteps slapped against the marble tiles, and both Suzaku warriors wheeled around to face the imposing frown of…an unbelievably beautiful boy of nearly ten years in age. He wore richly embroidered robes, complemented by dark hair tightly drawn up and concealed beneath a small boxlike crown. A throng of soldiers, advisors and tutors hovered at the door of the shrine but were obviously under orders to wait outside. Nuriko and Hotohori both dropped down into deep, respectful bows before the young Emperor.

"Please rise." The boy's words were stiffly formal, but his dark gold eyes gleamed with interest. "The Empress has told me of your visit, and I am honored to meet you at last." He gave a short and regal bow, enough to show respect to petitioners of less-than-royal rank. One prune-faced gentleman nodded in satisfaction from the doorway, his robes and rank designating him as the tutor for Royal Protocol.

Emperor Reizeitei turned and gave the same polite bow to the crowd at the doorway. "Thank you for your kind escort; you may all return to the main palace as I meet with my guests in private. Good day."

A swell of murmured protests rose from the assembled guards and tutors. Reizeitei crossed his arms and cocked one perfect eyebrow at them, the arrogant expression almost humorous on his rounded, childish face. There was nothing humorous, however, in his steely tones. "I _said,_ Good Day!"

At that, the crowd dispersed quickly, as ordered. Reizeitei turned to his guests and sighed. "I thought that they would _never_ leave!" The arrogance left his demeanor, and he gazed eagerly at them. "So are you really Celestial Warrior Nuriko?! And his companion? I've heard so much about you! Can you tell me stories about the battles you were in? Are you really strong enough to lift an entire block of stone?" His gaze focused on the veiled woman. "And what did you do in the Kutou War? Do you have any special powers?"

Hotohori looked overwhelmed at the barrage of questions, not to mention the fact that Reizeitei, although he bore a striking physical resemblance to his father, seemed to completely lack the polite aloofness of the lonely young boy. Nuriko tried to interject a reply while being dragged by one hand around the temple.

"See, here's the Holy Sword of Suzaku that belonged to my father! I'm not supposed to touch it, but Tasuki-san--you remember him, he was one of your brother warriors---Tasuki-san says that it's all a load of shit, and I can play with the goddamn sword since it belongs to me by right, as long as Suzaku doesn't strike me dead when I try to pick it up! Oh, and Tasuki-san says that I'm not supposed to say 'shit' and 'goddamn' and one other word I can't remember, because it's the secret language of bandits, and emperors have to earn the right to use them!"

Hotohori raised her hands to her temples in despair at the unforeseen influence of the foul-mouthed bandit in the Imperial household.

Nuriko bit his lip to keep from laughing. "So do you see a lot of Tasuki-san?"

Reizeitei looked sad for a moment. "Not nearly enough. He and Chichiri-sama used to visit a lot, but nowadays they're always gone on secret missions. But when they were here, Chichiri-sama would teach me the legends of Suzaku and some really sugoi magic tricks, and Tasuki-san would teach me to ride horses and shoot!"

"Ride horses and shoot…what?" asked Hotohori faintly.

"Mostly straw dummies dressed up as the Seiryuu Seven. Tasuki-san especially liked to shoot arrows into the biggest dummy that had bright yellow straw on top like hair. He said that if I hoped to kill the Seiryuu bastards, I had to learn to keep my ass on the horse. The Imperial Riding Master didn't want to push me to learn too fast, but Tasuki-san said that if I fell off the horse while it was galloping, he would kick my ass back on it till I got it right! He said that he wasn't going to let me become a sissy boy like my father!"

Nuriko choked, concealing his hilarity in a fit of coughing, while Hotohori fixed the boy with a look of outrage. "Your father was _never_ a sissy-boy! I knew him personally, and…and he was a respectable warrior!"

"Yes, I know, Tasuki-san said the same thing. He said that my father was one of the best warriors he ever knew, and an honorable man to boot! He just called him a sissy-boy because he was always looking in the mirror. Tasuki-san said that if he caught me looking in the mirror more than once a day, he was gonna whip my behind, and I could spend the rest of the day looking at my red ass!" Reizeitei paused a moment, frowning. "I think that 'ass' might be one of those bandit words that emperors aren't allowed to use."

"It most certainly is!" expostulated Hotohori, her eyes bright with anger.

Nuriko turned suddenly and covered his mouth, not wanting to further infuriate Hotohori by laughing out loud…but caught Reizeitei surreptitiously examining Hotohori with a keen, critical eye. Nuriko glanced away quickly, swearing under his breath. That sneaky little shit! Pretending to be an innocent boy fecklessly repeating the bandit language used by Tasuki, all the while deliberately seeking to shock his guests and gauge their reactions! He should have remembered Houki's words last night about her son's propensity for pranks.

He decided to take charge of the situation before Reizeitei provoked Hotohori into an apoplexy. "Heika," he asked casually, "have you ever heard Tasuki-san use any of those bandit words in the presence of your mother?"

Reizeitei broke off his examination of Hotohori to focus on Nuriko. He tapped his chin in deep thought. "No…no, I haven't."

"That's because despite his bandit ways, Tasuki-san is a gentleman, and he would never use such rude language in the presence of a genuine lady."

Reizeitei flushed at the rebuke, betraying his understanding of the coarseness of the "secret language." He met Nuriko's keen gaze and nodded slightly, acknowledging Nuriko's perceptiveness and abandoning his attempts to shock Hotohori.

"My apologies, my Lady. I am sorry for my rudeness, and I humbly beg your forgiveness."

Hotohori looked even more shocked at the change in Reizeitei, from chattering boy to well-mannered noble. She waved one hand uncertainly. "There was no offense meant and so none taken."

Reizeitei pressed the point. "Please, my Lady, I can't rest until I know that you have forgiven me. I need to feel that I am worthy of your trust. Perhaps worthy enough for you to unveil for me?"

Nuriko swore silently to himself again. Reizeitei was formidable in his single-mindedness. He was determined to uncover the mystery of the Lady in the shrine, and he was willing to use every weapon, including shock, charm, and Imperial rank, to get his own way. Nuriko could only be thankful that Houki, Tasuki, and Chichiri had been around to instill strong moral values in the boy; otherwise, his formidable intellect and perceptiveness could make him into a manipulator who could eclipse the machinations of Nakago.

Hotohori, however, could not resist the winsome charm in her son's voice. She unveiled slowly, and a beaming smile appeared on Reizeitei's face. His eyes, however, did not lose their intent focus.

"You are very beautiful, my Lady. You honor my home with your presence." Something suddenly caught in the boy's voice, and Nuriko thought that he saw Reizeitei gazing at Hotohori with genuine longing. Hotohori blushed in pleasure, completely won over by the admiration in her son's eyes.

Reizeitei, too, seemed captivated by her and for once, Nuriko could not discern anything but sincerity in the boy's manner. "Would you honor me with your name?"

"Shoda Saito…but please call me Sai."

"Sai," repeated Reizeitei dreamily. "A fitting name for…" He suddenly cut off whatever it was he was going to say. "I mean, it suits you."

"Thank you, Heika."

"No, please call me Reizeitei--or, if you would like, Boushin."

Nuriko startled, staring at the open countenance of the Emperor. Could he possibly know--but how?

Hotohori, however, smiled openly. "Boushin…yes, I like that name as well. It reminds me of someone…" she broke off.

Reizeitei leaned toward her, his slight body taut with tension. "Someone?" he prompted.

Hotohori met his gaze directly. "Someone I loved."

"And do you love him still, Lady?" The boy's voice trembled with suppressed emotion.

"I will love him as long as my soul exists on this plane or any other."

There was a moment of profound silence--a silence in which three people struggled with their emotions as they blinked back tears. Nuriko realized that he and Hotohori were perilously close to breaking their promise not to reveal Hotohori's true identity. Yet, as his heart ached from watching the struggle of parent and child to reach out to one another, he wondered if they were doing the right thing in keeping the secret. Reizeitei seemed strong enough to handle the confusing issues with Hotohori's metamorphosis. However, the decision was not his to make, and they had given their word of honor to their dear friend.

Nuriko jumped in to steer them away from these perilous waters, at the same time supporting Hotohori in her obvious desire to learn more about her son. "So, Heika--I mean, Boushin--tell me what your life is like. Are you happy?"

Boushin looked up, blinking rapidly, and shot a wryly adult smile at Nuriko. "Well, I'm Emperor. I do my lessons, try to learn about my country and how to govern her, hear petitioners, meet with advisors, and practice my swordsmanship and other martial arts. My days are very full."

Hotohori drew close to Boushin and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. "But do you have fun? Do you have...friends?"

Boushin smiled up at her. "Oh, yes, Mother insists upon it! She says that at least half of each day must be spent doing only what I wish to do, and one day per week is mine alone, free from any Imperial responsibilities. I have three good friends, two of them the grandchildren of Lord Ashida and one an orphan boy that Tasuki-san found and brought to work in the stables. We have the most marvelous adventures, all on the palace grounds, of course. I also have Chichiri-sama, who has taught me to fish and how to find the truth within myself by meditating, and Tasuki-san, who has taught me to climb trees and set ambushes. As I said, my days are very full."

"I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad to hear that!" Without thinking, Hotohori scooped Boushin into her arms for a brief embrace. He did not pull away as boys his age were wont to do, but leaned his head against her for a moment, closing his eyes as he savored the moment.

Nuriko hovered near them, once again the outside observer to familial warmth. He looked away to grant them privacy and to swallow the lump in his throat. Suddenly he felt his hand caught by another's, and he looked to see Hotohori smiling at him as she embraced her son. '_Arigatou,'_ she mouthed silently and gave his hand a brief squeeze. Nuriko flushed, feeling overcome with emotion.

"Boushin," Hotohori murmured to her son while keeping her eyes fixed on Nuriko. "Of all the things that fill your life, friends are the most important. Friends and family. Never forget that."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

It was less than two hours later that Houki, Reizeitei and Lord Ashida gathered on the steps of the Imperial Palace to wish Nuriko and his companion Saito safe passage to Kutou.

Reizeitei walked up to Hotohori, holding out the Holy Sword of Suzaku across both hands. "Please accept my father's sword and my best wishes for your success." The words were formal, but the smile on his face was very warm.

Hotohori bowed deeply. "You honor me with this gift. I will strive to be worthy of it." She tested the weight of the sword in her slender hands--then suddenly withdrew it swiftly from the scabbard, the steel singing from the rapid motion. She held it high, letting it catch the light of the noonday sun, shining like a beacon across the palace grounds…then quickly and gracefully resheathed it.

Reizeitei stared in admiration. "There are none more worthy than you to wield it, my Lady."

Hotohori bowed deeply again. Houki suddenly moved swiftly toward them, grasping their wrists, her hands closing awkwardly around Nuriko's bracelets. "Please, Nuriko, Sai---let me send some Imperial troops with you. I fear for your safety in Kutou!"

Nuriko squeezed her hand while Hotohori shook her head. "We are presenting ourselves as ambassadors, peaceful emissaries to help stabilize the Kutou government. A contingent of foreign soldiers would only threaten them, Little Bird." She smiled reassuringly. "You needn't worry. After all, Nuriko will be beside me, and what more protection do I need?"

Nuriko flushed at Hotohori's confidence in him. He wasn't sure what had brought about this change, but he didn't intend to question it.

After a few final embraces, the two Suzaku warriors mounted their horses and galloped out of the Imperial courtyard. Houki shielded her eyes to watch them go. "Yes, you have Nuriko now," she murmured softly to herself, "and he's all you've ever needed." She looked away, letting go of the jealousy, determined to think of them with love, as Nuriko had said.

Lord Ashida turned to follow the Empress but paused as he realized that Reizeitei still stood staring after the travelers. "Heika, are you coming?"

"In a moment." Reizeitei watched the figures until they disappeared around a bend in the road. "Good-bye…" he said very softly, "…Chichi-ue."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**  
The Steppes of Northern Hokkan**

-

Miaka woke suddenly, her attention caught by a soft, arrhythmic clicking sound. She stared up into the murky blackness of the night, noting that it wasn't very late, since the moon hadn't risen yet. She realized that their fire had died down into embers while they slept. Usually Tasuki would wake first and feed the fire, but for some reason, he remained huddled in his blankets on the far side of the glowing embers. A sense of wrongness suddenly rushed through her, snapping her wide awake, causing her to push hastily out of her bedroll. She darted over to check on Tasuki, grasping him by one shoulder. He was shivering violently, his eyes still closed but his teeth chattering, producing the clicking sound that had awoken her. She shook him hard, alarmed at the fact that he wasn't waking.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in confusion at her. "M-miki-ch-chan," he said hoarsely, "Wh-what's w-wrong?!"

"You are!" She anxiously placed a hand on his forehead. "You're sick!"

"N-no!" he tried to reassure her. "J-jus'…a little c-cold."

Miaka frowned. He wasn't burning from fever; in fact, his forehead was chill and damp. Suddenly she thrust a hand beneath his blankets, catching one of his hands that he had curled into his chest. "You're more than just cold! You're freezing!"

She darted off, grabbing up the small stockpile of branches he had cut for them earlier that night and flinging them onto the embers. She fanned the embers frantically but produced only a few small flickers of flame. The fire was taking its own time in rekindling. Frustrated, she darted back to Tasuki's side.

"Th-thanks, Miki-chan. Sh-shoulda done th-that myself."

"Hush!" She fixed him with an awful frown. "Why didn't you tell me you were getting sick? All you said was that we should turn in early tonight!"

"N-not S-SICK!" he insisted. "J-jus' tired…an' a little cold." He tried to produce a fangy grin, but his chattering teeth ruined the effect. "F-fine now! J-jus' g-go back ta s-sleep!"

"Oh, no!" Miaka crouched beside him, thrusting a hand inside his blankets again.

"H-hey!" Tasuki protested weakly. "S-stop g-gettin' fresh with m-me."

She ignored him, feeling along his shoulder, back, and legs. "Just as I thought! You're an ice cube!" Throwing back his blankets, she crawled in beside him, then pulled the blankets over them. She grabbed his hands and drew them into her stomach, then caught his frozen feet between her calves.

"M-miki-chan! S-stop it! I'm f-fine!"

"Shut up! I have no intention of letting you freeze to death!"

"N-not gonna d-die!" he argued, yet he couldn't help sinking into her warmth, feeling it soothe his aching limbs. He struggled one last time. "Plus this…is w-weird!"

"No, it's not. It's no different than what you did for me several days ago." She looked into his eyes, her nose nearly touching his--and flashed a grin. "Besides, we're brothers, Genrou, don't you remember?"

"Smartass," he mumbled…but the campfire had rekindled at last, wafting warmth through the air, combining with the warmth that cradled him, sending him into a deep and dreamless sleep.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Miaka pushed out of the bundle of blankets and stretched, blinking the early sunlight out of her eyes and looking around for Tasuki. He was standing just a few meters away, rifling through Makaze's saddle bags. His expression was dark with concern as he failed to find whatever it was he was looking for. Finally he stepped back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"What's wrong, Genrou?"

Tasuki startled, then assumed a cheerful grin as he met Miaka's eyes. "Up so soon, Miki-chan? Man, the way you were snorin,' I thought you'd be out for another hour."

"I don't snore, and you can stop trying to distract me. Answer the question, please!" She tilted her chin up toward him defiantly, her hands on her hips.

He laughed in genuine amusement. "Okay, okay, don' go kickin' my ass or nothin'! I'm jus' tryin' ta figure out how much food we got left."

"And?"

"And we got enough for three, maybe four days, if we're careful." Tasuki sighed. "I usually don't second-guess myself, but I wonder if I did the right thing takin' us so far off the main road. I expected ta run inta a lot more nomads or traders by now, but except for that one guy we got the blankets from ten days ago, we ain't seen anybody. Must be this fuckin' cold spring makin' everybody start out late this year."

Miaka blinked as she remembered the night. "That's right! Genrou, how do you feel today?"

He smirked back at her. "Fine. I toldja I wasn't sick! I jus' get a little cold up here in th' North. I'm a Southern boy, ya know," he drawled, laying on a thick accent.

Miaka giggled at his joke, making Tasuki grin in return. He turned and pulled his shirt over his head, talking casually over his shoulder. "Let's go over ta that stream we found last night and get clean."

Miaka stared at the ribs protruding from his sides and back. She didn't remember him looking so thin when they had first started traveling.

"Hey, Miki-chan!" Suddenly he was beside her, knocking on her skull. "Anybody home?"

"Sorry!" She flushed bright red. "Uh, I'll be right behind you. I just have to get some things from the saddle."

"Okay, but if ya don't answer my calls, I'm comin' back ta getcha, an' then I'm gonna turn you over my knee for dawdling!" He turned and strolled into the trees.

Miaka darted up to Makaze, giving him an absent pat before rifling through the saddle bags. She pulled out the small leather bags of their supplies of grain and rice. She weighed each bag in her hand, frowning, then began searching around for more bags. Nothing. She opened the small bags and peered inside. What did Tasuki mean by saying that there were enough rations for the next three or four days?! As far as she could tell, they had barely enough for two days, even if they went short.

If _they_ went short. But…there was enough food here for three or four days--for one person. One person.

Miaka's eyes went wide in shock. It couldn't be…he _wouldn't_…!

"Hey, Miki-chan, I'm _warnin'_ ya!"

"Coming!" She scrabbled around for her personal supplies and darted up the path, her mind piecing together little incidents from the past two weeks.

Tasuki gave her a light and affectionate cuff as she skidded into sight. They settled into their routine of taking turns, granting each other privacy while calling and answering. Miaka struggled to keep to the routine while her mind churned with conflicting thoughts.

Her distraction continued through the day's travel, making her answer Tasuki's remarks just a beat too slow. She tried to remember the last time that she had seen Tasuki eat anything. Was it that night one week ago when he had caught the rabbit? She remembered him laughing at her for wolfing down most of the rabbit after having tearfully rebuked him for killing it. Did she ever see him chewing on the hard grain that served as her breakfast each day? Her dreadful suspicion became a firm conviction. The rations…his increasing weariness…his inability to keep warm at night--he was starving himself! He was starving so that she wouldn't have to go short on food!

"An' then I said, well, sure it's great that I can sprout wings and fly, but do th' goddamn wings gotta be purple? An' Kouji, he says, shut th' fuck up, Genrou, it's better'n pink any day!"

"What?!" Miaka stared at Tasuki's back in confusion. "What are you talking about, Genrou?!"

He snorted. "Oh, guess ya suddenly started listenin' again. I wondered how fuckin' stupid a story I hadda tell until ya caught on. So what's th' big interestin' problem that's got ya all caught up today?"

Miaka flushed, glad that she was sitting at his back. She wanted to cringe in humiliation at her thoughtlessness, her complete self-absorption that made her content to accept anything he gave her without bothering to see if _he_ had what he needed. She swallowed hard, trying to repress the quiver in her voice. "I…I…" Inspiration suddenly hit, saving her. "I want to be the one to cook tonight!"

Tasuki jerked on the reins in surprise, making Makaze snort angrily. "Sorry, 'Kaze," he muttered before turning around to stare at Miaka. "Uh, Miki-chan, why all of a sudden…?"

"I feel like I need to contribute to our mission. I just want to help out!"

Tasuki turned forward again, staring into the setting sun. His back was tight with tension. Makaze snorted, planted his feet and lowered his head, indicating that he was finished with traveling for the day. Tasuki swung Miaka down before dismounting.

"So…is it all right if I do the cooking?"

Tasuki glanced away shiftily. "Uh, Miki-chan, how 'bout if you collect the branches, an' I…?"

"What's wrong?" Miaka said impatiently. "Why won't you let me…?" She stopped as a thought occurred to her. "Er, Genrou, did I ever cook for you in the past?"

He nodded, apparently finding his boots fascinating.

"So was it that bad?"

Tasuki nodded again…but lifted his head and grinned at her. "Worst fuckin' food I ever had in my LIFE! Ya damn near wiped out the Suzaku Seishi with that one meal!"

Miaka couldn't help giggling along with him. "But…but I've gotten better!" She giggled again at his frankly skeptical look. "I'm not lying, Genrou! Yui made me practice over and over again at college. My mother really worked hard with me as well. I can at least make a simple rice dish!"

Tasuki shook his head and sighed. "All right. Guess it's possible ya got better--ya sure couldn't get any worse!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," pouted Miaka…but inside, she was secretly triumphant. Tonight was her chance to repay him for all of the sacrifices he had made for her on this journey--and she would make sure that it was a meal he would never forget!

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Miaka stirred the boiling pot of rice carefully, as Yui had taught her. She tasted a small sip of the rice water and made a face--there was nothing wrong with it; it was just bland and tasteless. How she wished she had some of the curry leaves that her mother often used! Either those, or even a small leek or mushrooms… Seized by another burst of inspiration, she ran toward the trees that surrounded their campsite. She dug through the small lingering patches of snow; perhaps there were some early mushrooms growing on the dead wood scattered along the forest floor.

She dug in another patch beneath a dormant, bare-branched tree--and sucked in her breath in triumph as she spotted some small elliptical objects buried in the snow. Chestnuts!

"Hey, Miaka, how long do I gotta stay out here? Makaze's not th' greatest conversation maker, if ya know what I mean!"

"Just ten more minutes!" Miaka called up into the trees beyond the campsite, where she had banished Tasuki as she prepared his "surprise." She gathered up the few chestnuts she'd uncovered and raced back to the campfire, hastily lifting the lid and stirring the rice once more. Another thought struck her. Tasuki's meals had always tasted fine; perhaps _he_ had some curry leaves or other spices in the saddle bags. She ran over to the saddle bags resting near their bedrolls and searched carefully through each one. After pushing Tasuki's bottle of hair dye to one side, she discovered a small silk bag. Opening it, she was delighted to see some dried leaves and roots. She was certain that it had to be the spices that Tasuki had used in seasoning their other meals.

Miaka returned to the fire with her prizes and began shucking the chestnuts. After cutting them up with a dagger, she added them along with the dried leaves to the rice pot. She stirred the mix, removing the pot from the fire and letting the lid hold in the steam. Lifting the lid after five minutes, she took a tiny sip of the scant remaining rice water. It was perfect--the chestnuts gave a slight sweetness to the rice while the dried leaves formed a spicy counterpoint. "It's ready!" she called up into the woods.

Tasuki appeared within a minute, his expression a comical mix of trepidation and anticipation. He sniffed the air cautiously. "Smells pretty good, Miki…but how come there's only one bowl?"

Miaka dragged him by the hand and pushed him down onto a tree stump near the fire. "It's because you're the only one eating. It's your turn tonight, Genrou--since it was my turn the last ten nights!"

Tasuki flushed guiltily. "Nah, what're ya talkin' about, Miki? I've eaten plenty…"

"When? What did you eat?"

"Ummm, errrr…there was that one rabbit…"

"I remember that--you had maybe one leg! And that was over a week ago!" Miaka lowered her voice. "Look, you can't lie to me now that I've finally caught onto you. I really appreciate how you've taken care of me, Genrou, but it won't kill me to miss one meal. I'm really worried about you, and if you won't eat this, I might just…." She stifled a little sob.

"All right, all right, I'll eat it already! Jus' don' cry!" Tasuki lifted his full bowl and took a small amount in his chopsticks. Smiling nervously, he placed it in his mouth--and his eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, this ain't bad. In fact, it's pretty good!"

"You don't have to sound so surprised!" Miaka scolded, but she couldn't help grinning in triumph.

Tasuki began to eat a little faster; he tried to restrain himself, but Miaka knew that he had several days of hunger beneath his belt. Finally he took a breath and placed the nearly empty bowl by the fire. "That was great, Miki, thanks! I haven't had such a good meal in ages."

Miaka clapped her hands in delight. "I hoped that you would like it! I wanted to surprise you!"

"You didn't use up all the rice, didja?"

"No, we still have at least another day's worth. But I couldn't let you go hungry any longer."

Tasuki shook his head. "It's gettin' harder and harder to get anythin' past ya, Miki-chan. When didja get so smart?" Miaka blushed in pleasure at his compliment as Tasuki continued. "Since yer gettin' so damn smart, I figure that I'd better tell you 'bout _my_ surprise. When I was wanderin' around up there, I found a hot spring…." His voice suddenly caught in his throat.

Miaka crowed in pleasure. "A hot spring? Where?"

But Tasuki was staring at her with a strange expression on his face. "Miki--hand me th' canteen, wouldja?" he said breathlessly.

She hastily passed the small canteen to him, watching anxiously as he took a big gulp of water. He lowered the canteen, and Miaka saw beads of sweat appearing on his brow. "What's wrong…?"

Before she could finish her sentence, he jumped up and darted behind the trees. To her horror, she heard him choking and retching violently. "Genrou--Genrou, what's happening?!" she cried stupidly.

"Stay back!" he rasped before succumbing to another bout of retching. Finally he grew quiet and reappeared from behind the trees, his countenance pale and strained.

Miaka ran up to him, leading him back to the fire. "Sit down, I'll make you some tea!"

He shook his head. "Listen, Miki, I gotta ask ya--was there anythin' that looked wrong about that rice? Was it gettin' slimy or anythin'?"

"No--no, it was still dry and perfect!" Miaka turned a stricken look on Tasuki. "But…but maybe the chestnuts were bad. They looked good, but they had been frozen under the snow…"

Tasuki turned a horrified look on Miaka. "What chestnuts? Where didja get 'em?!"

Miaka led him to the tree beneath which she had found the chestnuts. Tasuki stared at the tree a moment and picked up a broken chestnut shell. "Oh, goddamnit," he cursed softly. "T'Ien Shih Li!"

"T'Ien Shih Li? What's that?"

"Hokkan horse chestnut. Used as an emetic--ya know, ta empty your stomach in case of poisoning. Oh shit!" He darted back into the trees for another bout of retching. When he finally reappeared, he was paler than before, and Miaka was near tears.

"Genrou--Genrou, I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

"I know, Miki, but listen up, 'cause this is important! Never, _never_ put anythin' in your food unless you know _exactly_ what it is! Thank Suzaku that it was me instead of you who ate…" Suddenly he bent over, clutching at his abdomen in agony. "Miaka!" he gasped, abandoning her nickname. "Didja put anythin' else in th' food? DID YOU?!"

"Only a few of the spices you had in the saddle bag!" sobbed Miaka, beginning to panic.

"I didn't have any spices! Are ya talkin' 'bout the leaves in th' bag with the hair dye?!"

"Yes!"

"Oh, goddamn fucking HELL!" Tasuki cursed into the ebony sky. "Goddamn Han Lian Cao!"

"Is it poison?!"

"Not that bad, but... It's what I use for the hair dye--but it's also a goddamn _purgative!_" He clawed at his abdomen. "Listen, Mi-chan, grab your stuff and get th' hell outta here. No question and answer--just GO!"

"I won't leave you, Tasuki!"

"Yes you will, 'cause in about sixty seconds, I'm gonna be good for nothin' but a target for predators! Take Makaze an' get th' hell outta here! I'll find ya…when I'm over this." Tasuki put his free hand on a tree to support himself, bowing his head to hide his grimaces of pain.

"What if you don't get over this? What if you need help?"

Tasuki lifted his head and glared at her through reddened eyes. "You can't help me, so get outta here! If for some reason, I don't make it…I got gold hidden in the lining of my coat, so take it and Makaze and GO!" He roared in frustration at her stubborn refusal to move. "For Suzaku's sake, Miaka, leave me with at least a shred of dignity, will ya? GET _OUT!"_

Miaka stumbled back, shocked at the desperate rage on his face. Makaze suddenly shouldered past him, trotting up to Miaka and nudging her with his nose. She crawled up onto his back, hearing Tasuki shout, "Hyah!" Makaze took off, cantering swiftly away from the campsite as Tasuki stumbled back through the trees.

Miaka clung to Makaze's mane as he found his way back out onto the open plain that bordered the copse of trees. Finally he stopped, and Miaka slid out of the saddle, collapsing onto the ground in a miserable heap. "Everything I do…" she sobbed, "everything I do turns into a disaster! I'm so stupid, I hate myself! I wish I was dead!" Makaze lowered his head and nosed her gently as if to comfort her. "No, don't do that, Makaze! I don't deserve it! I probably killed your master!"

The big horse snorted and shook his mane vigorously, then nosed her again and whickered softly. Miaka smiled at him through her tears. "I swear that you can talk, 'Kaze! You're saying that he's a lot tougher than that, right?" She reached out and wrapped her arms around his huge head. "Oh, I hope that you're right! I'd give anything to have him come walking out of those trees screaming and cursing at me!"

The full moon rose higher in the sky, casting its light in a silvery swathe across the wide plains, shining on the giant shadowed horse that stood protectively over the small figure huddled at its feet. Miaka shivered suddenly and blinked, realizing that she had dozed off while brooding. She checked the position of the moon, estimating that at least two hours had passed. Tasuki hadn't shown up yet--but then again, she had no idea of how long he would suffer from the effects of the purgative and emetic drugs. She forced back the weak tears and rose to her feet, determination gleaming in her eyes.

"Come on, Makaze, we're going back!"

The big horse shook his mane again and snorted.

"I don't care what he said! I have to check up on him!" Miaka began striding back toward the dark mass of trees, but Makaze moved, placing his solid bulk in her way. Irritated, she veered around him, but he also turned with her, and before she knew it, she was walking back the way she had come.

Miaka placed her hands on her hips. "You may think you're stubborn, but you've never come up against me before! I can show you a thing or two about stubborn!"

For the next fifteen minutes, the two duellists played their game of advance and retreat, feint and dodge. Finally Miaka collapsed on the ground exhausted, noting dully that she had advanced only twenty meters back toward the copse. Still no sign of Tasuki, either. The thought of his suffering and possible death overwhelmed her, and despite her best efforts, the useless tears began again.

"I don't want to hurt him or embarrass him," she sobbed. "I just want to help! Even just a little… Can't you understand that, Makaze? You seem to understand almost everything else."

The big horse pawed the ground uncertainly before approaching her and placing his velvet muzzle in her hair. He whoofed out a gentle breath, making her shiver from the warmth trickling down her neck. Suddenly he jerked up his head, his ears pricking forward. His nostrils flared, and he took a few hesitant steps toward the copse--then wheeled around, dancing over the ground impatiently while tossing his head at Miaka.

"Trouble!" she said breathlessly and ran up to him, pulling herself clumsily onto his back. As soon as she gained her seat, Makaze took off at a rapid canter back toward the trees. Soon they were slaloming between the trees, Miaka ducking low on his back to avoid the branches that whipped back from their passage. He pulled up short at their campsite, and Miaka slid off his back. A subtle movement caught her eye, and she noticed a dark form slinking around the edges of the area, lifting glowing eyes toward the new arrivals.

"Wolf!" Miaka gasped, remembering Tasuki's comment about becoming a target for predators. The scent of sickness must have brought the creature out from its lair, hoping for an easy kill. The canine hesitated a moment upon seeing Miaka--then Makaze let out an infuriated squeal, charging toward the skulking form. He crashed through the underbrush, hooves striking out at the creature. Miaka heard a yelp, followed by receding yips as the animal took off into the safety of the night.

"Tasuki!" shrieked Miaka, frantic for his safety. She ran through the trees but found nothing but the lingering scent of sickness. "Tasuki, TASUKI!" she cried, going almost mad with terror for him. A dark shape appeared before her, blocking the faint rays of moonlight filtering through the trees. It was Makaze again, snorting and pawing the ground before her. She remounted and clutched at his mane. "Find him! Find him, Makaze, _please!_"

Makaze took off at a sedate trot, carefully winding his way between the trees. Miaka almost screamed with frustration at his meandering pace--it was so _slow_ compared to his earlier charge toward the campsite! They progressed further into the copse, the ground gently rising and showing the rocky bones of the foothills which lay just to the east. Mist drifted over the ground, giving the place an eerie atmosphere. Miaka realized that she had fallen silent, unconsciously adjusting to the mysterious feel of the surroundings. She squinted at the thickening mist ahead, roiling in twisting and ghostly shapes. Suddenly Makaze halted, and Miaka focused on a shape in the mists, looking like a man's upper body draped over a rock…

"_TASUKI!"_ she screamed, diving off Makaze's back and rushing toward the shape. She thought that the shape moved--but by that time, she had tripped and fallen into the spring hidden by the thick twisting mists. She surfaced in a panic, spitting out hot water and choking, as something shoved her against the rock. She clung to the rock, drawing in deep breaths, finally focusing on the figure in the mists beside her. It was Tasuki, dripping wet and furious.

"Goddamnit, Miaka, do ya hafta scream yer fool head off all th' time?! I was dozin' in th' spring, an' yer shriekin' woulda scared the shit outta me, _if_ I had any left, which I _don't!_ What th' fuck are ya doin' here, anyway?!"

"I thought the wolf killed you! I thought you were dead!"

"Wolf? There ain't no wolves around here!"

"Yes, there are! Makaze just drove one off from the campsite!"

Tasuki shook his head and laughed. "That wasn't a wolf. That was a goddamn stray dog, probably lost from one of the nomadic tribes. Pain in the ass skulker, but chickenshit as hell--kept runnin' off if I pitched a few rocks at it."

"Oh." Miaka pushed her dripping bangs out of her eyes and looked around. The steam rising from the spring was so thick that Makaze was only a vague dark shape standing on the bank. "I guess this is the hot spring."

"Good one, Mi-chan--don't let nobody tell ya that yer slow!" Tasuki smirked above her. His face was pale in the moonlight and a little drawn, but he looked much better than the last time she saw him. "Came in here ta get warmed up, 'cause I was shiverin' like a sonuvabitch…but I never expected ya ta come tumblin' in on top of me! I tell ya, Mi-chan, it's official now!" He grinned at her. "Outta all the shichiseishi that ever existed, I hold the record for the most times a seishi nearly died at th' hands of his priestess! Ain't nobody else _ever_ gonna beat me out!"

Miaka tried to grin back at him, but her smile crumpled, and she ended up sobbing into her hands. "So then, I guess," she hiccuped, "I hold the record for being the worst, most _stupid_ and thoughtless priestess that _ever_…."

She felt herself pulled into a wet and slippery embrace. "Aww, c'mon, Mi-chan, I was makin' a joke! C'mon, knock off th' tears already! It was an accident--you were tryin' ta do somethin' nice for me, that's all!"

His kindness made her heart ache worse; she wished that he would rail and shout at her, so that she wouldn't feel so guilty. She buried her face in the smooth skin of his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck and weeping bitterly with the release of all of her fears, reliving her terror that she had lost him.

He patted her back awkwardly, trying to calm her. "Anyway, Mi-chan, you're jus' plain wrong ta call yerself thoughtless. You're one of the few people in this world who thinks about me at all. Most people don't care whether I live or die--and some would rather I died! Maybe I've taken a few lumps 'cause of you, but ya never did it outta bein' thoughtless! Ya always worried 'bout me, and," his voice dropped, becoming soft, "I always appreciated that."

Miaka quieted in his gentle embrace, her heart beating in wonder at his tenderness toward her. However, that wasn't the only reason her heart was racing. She felt his skin beneath her cheek and fingers, smooth against her…as far as she could feel. She suddenly felt a flush of heat move up through her body, a flush that she couldn't blame on the hot spring. Was it embarrassment, or…? "Tasuki! I did it again, didn't I? I, uh, walked in on you again when you weren't, er, wearing anything…." Her voice trailed off into an embarrassed mumble.

Tasuki snorted with laughter. "Fell in on me is more like it! But, yeah, Mi-chan, I don't generally go in hot springs with my pants on. Don' worry, though--hell, after tonight, I figure I got no secrets from you anyway! It'd be kinda stupid for me ta put on an air of wounded dignity, when I ain't got any left."

"Yes, you do! I don't think any worse of you, especially since all of your suffering is my fault! In any case, you're the one who said that we're only human. I've been sick to my stomach plenty of times myself, you know!" She lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze without embarrassment.

He laughed again at her defiant demeanor. "I don't doubt it, th' way ya usta wolf down everythin' in sight! But thanks anyway, Mi-chan. Hey," his voice dropped into a low growl, "if ya wanna make it up ta me, there is somethin' you could do right now…"

In spite of the steam surrounding her, Miaka felt her throat go dry. "What?"

Tasuki lifted his arms and pointed down his back. "I got this sore spot behind my right shoulder blade that I can't reach. If you could work it out for me…."

"Oh, of course!" She moved around behind him, feeling along the triangulation of his trapezius, following along the curve of his shoulder blade until she felt the slight lump of tensed muscle. She dug her fingers into the knot, working it firmly as she tried to coax his muscles to relax. He sighed in pleasure and let his head droop forward until he began coughing from the steam.

Miaka grasped his wet ponytail and pulled his head back until it rested against her left shoulder. "Here, just lean against me until I'm done." He relaxed against her, giving in to his weariness and the bliss of her massaging fingers.

Miaka concentrated on his shoulder blade, working the knotted muscle until it began to yield to her firm ministrations. Tasuki floated gently against her, his eyes closed and his expression blissfully at peace. Suddenly a torrent of images crashed through her mind: she and Tasuki together like this in warm water, his head against her shoulder as she caressed him; his face younger, more rounded; Tasuki grabbing her and kissing her, both of them wrapped in towels…

She couldn't hold back any longer; she _had_ to know! "Tasuki! Were we ever lovers?"

He jumped violently, spinning and fixing her with a shocked look just as his rapid twisting motion caused him to slip, crashing under the surface of the water. He came up sputtering and cursing. "Goddamnit, Miaka, I'm beginnin' ta think that ya _are_ tryin' ta kill me!"

"Sorry, sorry!" She tried to explain. "It's just that I don't remember anything from when we first met, and sometimes I get these…strange images in my mind…more like memories, I think…and…." Miaka trailed off, miserably embarrassed, not noticing that Tasuki looked stricken for a moment before regaining control.

"Nah, Mi-chan, listen. Sometimes things might seem one way, but they get twisted up in your head, an' they're not…" he stumbled over the words awkwardly.

"So we weren't…?"

"No!" he interrupted, surprising her with his vehemence. "You didn't…you never felt…it wasn't like that between us! I was just a friend to you; we were just good friends." He stopped, his expression dark and closed.

His words reverberated in her mind, joined by another ghostly memory, a voice murmuring, _'Just a good friend--and that's all you'll ever be._' Who said that? Was it her…or him? What did these memories mean? Had they ever tried…? Did he reject her, or did she reject him? She knew by the pained expression on his face that he would never tell her what lay in their past…and she had caused him enough pain for one night.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Ya didn't upset me, Mi-chan; just surprised me a little, that's all." Tasuki seemed to have regained his composure. "Listen, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty tired, so maybe we better get out now. If ya don't mind, Mi-chan, pull out some fresh trousers for me. I buried my last set of clothes--they weren't worth savin,' trust me!" He gave her a crooked grin.

She did as he requested, changing into dry garments while he waited in the spring, then busying herself with Makaze to grant him privacy as he donned his own clothes. He let her know that he was finished by walking up to her and tousling her hair in a brotherly way. "Hey, Mi-chan, I meant ta ask ya--whatever made ya look for chestnuts in th' first place?"

She ducked her head sheepishly. "I wasn't. I just came across them by accident when I was looking for some mushrooms."

Tasuki stared at her a moment…then burst into howls of laughter, holding his sides. Finally he regained control, wiping tears from his eyes as he mounted his horse. "Sorry, Mi-chan!" he gasped. "It's just that--I gotta admit, I cursed the gods a few times this night. But I take it all back! They really _were_ lookin' out fer me!"

Miaka stared up at him, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"If you woulda fed me some magic mushrooms, right now you and 'Kaze would be chasin' me across th' plains as I ran bare-ass naked after imaginary butterflies, flappin' my arms an' tryin' ta fly!"

Miaka burst into giggles at that ridiculous image. Tasuki pulled her up onto Makaze's back, and the trio picked their way through the moonlit woods, accompanied by soft laughter as they traveled to a new campsite.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

The next morning, Miaka rose first, unsurprised at Tasuki's exhaustion after his ordeal the night before. She patted Makaze, who stood dozing in the shelter of some scrub trees, and retrieved the canteen, hoping to put a pot of tea on the fire before Tasuki woke. A far-off movement on the horizon caught her eye.

She climbed the rise behind which they had taken shelter and shielded her eyes against the rays of the rising sun. There it was again, an arrhythmic waving motion. It looked like pennant flags attached to domelike structures in the distant hills.

"Tasuki!" she called out, regretting the necessity of waking him. "There's something out there!"

In an instant he was beside her, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He squinted, trying to focus on what she had seen. Suddenly a brilliant smile burst across his features.

"Gers!" he exclaimed.

"What do you mean, gers?"

"They're the homes of the Hokkan nomads! We're saved, Miaka--civilization at last!"

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**  
**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**  
**-

**Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

Heika - Your Highness

Oyasumi nasai - Good night (formal)

Arigatou - thank you

Chichi-ue - Father; highly respectful form of address meaning something like "Lord Father"

******  
Author's Notes: **(4-19-04) Yes, I'm LATE! This has been a badly complicated few weeks, and I'm sure that some of you have lit candles in sympathy for my untimely demise. :P Others are asking, "Where the_ hell_ is Casting Stones?!!" Explanations as follows: Work, special projects, family commitments, work, Easter dinner for 12, more work, arrangements for travel abroad, work, bad case of sinusitis, and work. Yes, my aikido sensei has probably given me up for dead as well.

So why Hidden Paths instead of Casting Stones? Well, Casting Stones 12 _is_ 80 complete, but I abandoned it last week because I wanted to post a Hidden Paths Tasuki-centric chapter in honor of his birthday, which was YESTERDAY, April 18. So why didn't I post it yesterday? Because 1) the Hotohori/Nuriko story arc grew more complex by the moment, increasing my writing time, and 2) just as I was about to upload this chapter to , my entire neighborhood suffered a power outage, and I found myself sitting in pitch blackness, staring at the blankness where my computer monitor was hidden.

Roku: Oh, _bollocks_!

So I've worked like crazy today, and here I am at last.

Okay, first of all, I know that this feels like two chapters melded into one. I really didn't intend that, but the Houki-Hotohori-Nuriko-Boushin storyline got darker and more complicated and differed _so_ dramatically from the Tasuki-Miaka storyline that I didn't feel like "intercutting" scenes from each in my usual fashion. I could have dropped the Tasuki-Miaka storyline, but dammit, the whole reason for writing this chapter was to celebrate Tasuki's birthday!

Tasuki: Oh, thanks one whole _hell_ of a lot for this one AGAIN, Roku! Last year, ya gave me a zipper accident and blew up my best friend; this year ya fuckin' poisoned me--whatcha got planned for my next birthday? Tyin' me to a cross and torturin' me?

Roku: Oh, no, baby, Watase-san is already doing that to you in the new Gaiden novel, Sanbou Den. I try to be original, don't you know?

Tasuki: That's it, I'm leavin' town!

Ummm, you can't get away as long as I have power flowing into my computer, sweetness!

That reminds me to give a very_ important_ credit: Many thanks to Tetris no Miko for her online summation of the Hotohori Gaiden Novel, which included summaries of the letters that Nuriko wrote to Houki, _aaaaannnd_ for her online scans of the new Tasuki-Chichiri Gaiden novel Sanbou Den!

Okay, back to the story. Why the thousands of words spent on the Hotohori-Nuriko-Houki triangle? Because to me, this is one of the most complicated situations that occurs in Fushigi Yuugi canon...and it is _completely_ ignored in the manga and anime (although Hotohori's gaiden novel touches on it in the letters between Nuriko and Houki.) OVA II avoided the inevitable conflicts by keeping Nuriko out of the Boushin storyline, and Eikou Den handled it like total crap, having the reincarnated Nuriko searching for and bonding with Hotohori...then standing aside smiling cheerfully as Hotohori ignored him (her) in favor of re-asserting his love for his wife and son. D'uh'uhhhhhhhh! I decided to look deeper into the painful situation that happened when the best friend of one character ended up marrying that person's true love. There are no easy or painless solutions, and I portrayed the multiple ramifications and complications to the best of my ability. Thanks for sticking with me, minna!

Other story remarks : Yes, I know that Miaka starts out calling Tasuki "Genrou" and reverts to addressing him as "Tasuki" once the situation becomes serious. He does the same with the Miki/Miaka terms. The point I was making was that they keep to one another's assumed names when things are normal, but under conditions of stress, they revert to calling each other by their true names. Onward and outward:

RESEARCH CORNER: Yes, the plants that Miaka placed in Tasuki's food are real, are found in China, and have those physiological effects.

T'Ien Shih Li, what Tasuki calls Hokkan Horse Chestnut, is actually Chinese Horse Chestnut. The chestnuts have a nutty, slightly sweet flavor, but unfortunately are a powerful emetic. (Tasuki translation: Makes ya barf!)  
Han Lian Cao, also known as Eclipta prostata, can be used both to generate a black hair dye...and as a purgative, aka strong laxative. (Tasuki translation: Makes ya…okay, ya get th' picture!)

Am I giving you this info so that you can poison your friends and loved ones? No! Actually, these are "anti-poison" drugs, used by the Chinese to purge one's body of poison. The important lesson is what Tasuki shouts at Miaka - NEVER put anything in your food unless you're 100 certain of what it is. This is especially true of the hallucinogenic mushrooms that Tasuki jokes about; most species of mushrooms would kill him outright, seishi constitution or not.

Okay, back to lighter subjects: A note to Etrurielle from her review for Chapter 9. You are VERY sharp, girl, and absolutely right! Congratulations for being the first reviewer to make the Hidden Paths/Bridge connection!

Future stuff: Yes, Casting Stones 12 will be the next thing I post--the question is whether I'll manage to post it before I take off once again on my seemingly continuous world travels, this time to France! And Slovenia! France will have my best-beloveds accompanying me, but they will leave for the US when I go conferencing in Slovenia. Hopefully, I will have time to write while I'm in Slovenia, but knock on wood, 'cause every time I say I'll have time to write, the stuff hits the fan!

And you know what comes after I'm safely back at home, with Hidden Paths and Casting Stones both recently updated ---yes, I'm going back to Bridge, maybe even finishing off that epic fic at last!

Wish me luck on my travels, minna - and pray that the terrorists quit bombing the European Railways. Ryuen has promised that if something happens to me, and she never finds out the ending to "Bridge"...she is going to be very, VERY miffed!

Ja ne!

Roku 

-

(4-20-04) Additional note! A very warm thank you to Chibi-Kaz for imparting the info that the term "yurt" is slightly insulting to the Mongol people. Thus, the term for the Hokkan nomadic people's tents has been changed to "gers" upon her astute advice. Although the characterization of the Hokkan nomads will be based on several different ethnicities, including Russian and (in musical selection) Celtic, she is correct--the primary influence will be Mongolian, as it was in canon Fushigi Yuugi.  
So thanks again, C-K! Boy, all you terrific readers make it _easy_ for me to do research!


	11. Two parts of one whole

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters do belong to me (and yes, the dang text as well:P) and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical Selection: "Invitation" by Secret Garden from their CD "Once in a Red Moon," Universal Music, 2002. Ahem. This is the music that is meant to accompany the "Dance of the Boots and Swords." Don't know what I'm talking about? Well, ya gotta read the chapter, silly!

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Chapter 11. Two Parts of One Whole**

**-**

**  
Northern Hokkan**

Miaka shaded her eyes with her hand, trying to count the domelike gers that dotted the gently rolling plains. At first she'd thought that only one ger stood in the distance, but now she realized that what she had seen was an outlying tent at the edge of a veritable city of gers, an encampment that stretched almost to the rocky foothills of the North Hokkan mountains.

_"Sugoi,"_ she breathed. "There must be over a hundred tents out there! I didn't realize that the nomadic tribes were so huge."

"They ain't." Tasuki squinted in the early morning light. "We're lucky to have caught up with a lotta tribes at once. They must be here for a Spring Gathering Festival, or somethin' like that."

"Spring Gathering Festival?"

"Yeah. Ya see, most of the tribes are made up of family groups who are pretty much all cousins ta some degree. So when it's time for the youngsters ta choose a husband or wife, it's best ta meet up with people from other tribes so they don't get stuck marryin' their own blood relatives."

"Yuck!" Miaka grimaced.

Tasuki grinned. "Yep, that's what the nomadic kids say. Anyway, it's a stroke of luck fer us, since we won't stand out too much in a mixed crowd like that." He turned and started making his way back towards their camp but stopped when he realized that Miaka wasn't following him. "Hey, Miki-chan!"

But Miaka stood transfixed, an expression of bliss creeping over her features.

"Miki_rou!_"

She jumped at the sharp rebuke and raced to his side, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Do you smell that, Genrou? Cooking fires! FOOD!"

"Not so fast, Miki. Ya better gather up some branches, an' I'll start our own fire. We have enough leaves fer a pot of tea, an' there's still a couple rations of grain left fer breakfast."

Miaka made a face. "I don't want that horse food. Why don't we give the grain to Makaze and go eat over there? They're not even a half-hour's ride away." She tried to pout winningly.

"Nah, ain't gonna work, so you can give it up. We ain't goin' anywhere near those nomads—_or_ their food—till I'm sure that you can pass as my little brother. We got no way of knowin' whether there's anyone unfriendly in that crowd, if ya know what I mean."

Miaka sighed but lifted her arms obediently. "Fine, bind me up as usual."

Tasuki shook his head. "Nope, it's gonna take more than that."

"What do you mean?" Green eyes widened in dismay. "You already gave me a boy haircut and you're going to bind my chest and make me wear those fat waist pads, so…"

"Yeah, an' ya look like a boy as long as ya stand still an' keep yer mouth shut. But unless I'm gonna walk everywhere with ya tucked silent under my arm like a stupid doll, you ain't gonna fool even the village idiot."

"What do you…."

"Look, I'll explain after breakfast, 'kay? But right now, I'm hungry, so get a move on with those branches, hear?"

He gave her a brotherly swat on the behind, and she scurried off obediently, suddenly guilty as she remembered last night. Of course, he was hungry! The drug-tainted dinner she'd fed him had probably scoured out any traces of nutrition he had left after ten days of near-starvation.

Less than a half-hour later, they sat by their fire, sipping black jasmine tea and sharing the last of their grain while Makaze cropped the grass nearby. Miaka shot a glance at Tasuki from under her eyelashes.

"Yeah, you can quit watching me now. I'm eatin' already, okay?"

She huffed out a breath. "Well you can hardly blame me for being suspicious after the stunt you've been pulling for the past couple of weeks."

"Here, you want proof?" He opened his mouth, exposing his half-chewed portion of grain.

"Ewww!" She threw some twigs at him while giggling. "Boys are so gross!"

"Boys, huh? It's been a while since I been called that. But that reminds me—if yer done eating, it's time fer a few lessons."

He took her teacup out of her hand and pulled her to her feet. "First of all, Miki, yer gonna hafta pretend that ya don't talk much."

"Why?" Miaka scowled as she pictured herself unable to ask for important information, like where she could get lunch, dinner, or snacks.

"Listen ta yerself! Ya got a squirrelly-girl voice, and there's no way we can hide that."

"I can talk like a guy!" She cleared her throat and tried to deepen her voice, "Ah mayn, Ah c'n tawk lahk a guy!"

"No, now ya jus' sound like a squirrel with a sore throat. A hick squirrel, I might add. A hick _girl _squirrel."

"Shut up!" She punched him in the arm to stop him laughing. "So I can't talk at all?" she asked glumly.

"Nah, you can answer questions with short answers like 'yeah,' 'no,' 'huh,' or 'what.' Fer anythin' longer, jus' smile an' duck yer head an' try ta look shy. Oh yeah, don't ferget ta use yer 'hick squirrel with a head cold' voice."

She punched him again, trying not to laugh at his smartass grin. "Fine, I understand. Can we go get some real food now? I'm ready."

"Not by a long shot. Now we gotta change how ya move."

"What's wrong with the way I move? Everyone's always telling me how clumsy and awkward I am. I don't move like a girl at all!"

"Oh yeah? Well, pick up yer cup and go over there," he pointed at a worn tree stump, "take a drink and listen up."

Miaka did as told, waiting for another lecture.

But Tasuki just shook his head. "Okay, now get up, come back here an' watch."

"But I just sat down!" she protested.

"Look, we can spend all day here arguin' and end up goin' ta bed hungry, or you can do as I tell ya!"

Muttering under her breath, she rejoined Tasuki. To her surprise, he moved towards the stump, balancing his teacup carefully between two fingers. Once there, he took a look at the stump, frowned, then removed a kerchief from his pocket and swiped daintily at specks of dirt before sitting down on the edge with his knees together. Lifting the cup to his lips, he took a delicate sip, then crossed his legs.

Miaka let out a peal of laughter. "You look like a…a…"

"Girl, right?" Tasuki uncrossed his legs with a grimace. "Yeah, an' I ain't even as short an' cute as you are. But as far back as fifty paces, someone would take me for a girl if I moved like that—an' they'll think the same of you, boy clothes or not. Miki, are ya listenin' ta me? Hey, _Miki!"_

"Huh?" Miaka snapped out of her daze. Did he really think that she was cute? Judging from the furious glare directed at her, the answer was…no. Scrambling desperately to recover, she tried to remember what he'd been talking about. Oh, yeah—

"I sit like a girl."

"Uh-huh. An' walk an' talk an' hold things an' do just about _everything_ like a girl!"

The seriousness of their situation—and exactly how far she was from getting hot food—finally sank in. "So how can I change that?"

"The only way yer gonna act like a guy is if ya _think_ like a guy; after that, the rest will fall inta place. Now watch."

Her eyes tracked him as he strolled casually up to the stump, kicked at it with one boot, then turned and sprawled comfortably across it, legs apart, leaning a forearm on one knee.

Tasuki stood up again. "Now it's your turn."

Miaka strode up to the stump, arms swinging, then turned and sat down quickly on the edge, back straight.

"No, no, _no!_ Quit holdin' yer knees together, Miki! And quit actin' like that stump is gonna bite ya in the ass if ya sit back. Ya gotta act like ya _own _that stump. It's yer stump, so goddamnit, take control of it! Getcher ass on it—no, more! Now lean back. Yeah, that's right—uh, no. Spread yer legs apart, goddamnit!"

Miaka flushed with anger. "Look, Genrou, I refuse to provide a peep show for every pervert who happens to walk by!"

Tasuki grasped his head in frustration. "Ya keep fergettin' that yer not a girl with a short skirt an' little checkered panties any more! Yer supposed ta be a guy, and if yer a guy, ya got _stuff_ between yer legs—stuff that don't like being crushed when ya put yer knees together! Are ya catchin' my drift yet?"

This time, she grew even pinker. "Yeah, I get it," she mumbled, and parted her knees another two inches.

"Grrrrrr, _no,_ ya don't get it! Wait!" He dug around in the saddle bags until he found the gauze he used to wrap her chest, and sliced a section with his dagger. Looping the material into two small sacks, he scooped up a handful of the shale near their firepit, then dumped the sharp-edged rocks into the thin bags. "Here!" Tasuki shoved the sacks at her. "Go behind that tree and loop these around yer belt but let them hang inside yer trousers, like the real stuff."

She scowled but did as he asked, walking gingerly back towards him.

"Now go over there an' sit down."

Miaka seated herself as usual, until… "Ow!"

"See, that's what I'm trying ta tell ya. Ya gotta keep yer knees apart."

"It's not the same," she grumbled. "You don't have knife-edged stones cutting into your thighs."

"Nope, th' pain goes th' other way fer real guys. So tell me, do ya feel like crossin' yer legs now?"

"No! And you can stop smirking."

"I ain't doin' this fer shits and giggles, Miki-kun. I'm puttin' ya through all this so that you'll _remember_ the next time ya sit or stand or do _anythin'_ around strangers. I'm not shittin' you when I tell ya that yer life may depend on it some day."

Miaka met his intense amber stare. He was dead serious—and she was being a pain, as usual. "You're right," she conceded.

Tasuki finally laughed. "Gee thanks, Mi-chan; glad that I'm right about how ta act like a guy. I'd hate ta think I was doin' it wrong all these years."

She couldn't help bursting into giggles. "All right, fine, tell me what else I need to know."

After another half-hour of instruction, she understood how to meet a man's stare directly so that she didn't look shifty or untrustworthy—but if she held that stare one second too long, she'd appear to be issuing a challenge or a come-on. She learned not to bow too deeply or too shallowly, and to expect women to bow slightly lower than her. She practiced using her elbows to move through a crowd, and how to push ahead to secure the best position or seat.

Miaka leaned back on the stump, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm as Tasuki had taught her. "Now I know why men act as if they own the whole world."

"Why's that?"

"Because they really _believe_ that they're entitled to own the world! Sexist jerks!"

"Yeah, and don't you forget that yer one of those jerks from now on. Keep up that slightly superior attitude, and you'll pass jus' fine." Tasuki walked over to her and extended his hand. "Now get up, 'cause we gotta ride if we wanna get any lunch."

She jumped up, her eyes sparkling at the mention of food—and completely forgot about her new accessories. "Ow! Oh! Eeee!"

"Oh yeah," Tasuki was already strolling away from her, "ya might wanna take the rocks outta yer drawers before ya try ta get on Makaze."

Miaka narrowed her eyes at his retreating figure as she unfastened the sacks from her belt. Tasuki was enjoying his "male superiority" lessons a bit too much, and it was time to take his arrogant attitude down a peg or two.

She took off at a run, not slowing until she had caught him up. "By the way, Genrou, about that thing you'd said earlier…"

"Yeah, which one of the hundred things are ya talkin' about?" He glanced down at her, smirking.

"The thing about my underwear. How did you know that I used to wear checkered panties?"

The smirk left his face, and he stopped, a slow flush creeping across his features. "I, uh…ummmm…I…"

"That's what I thought. You forgot to teach me one very important thing, Genrou: if I want to pass as a guy, I have to look under the girls' skirts every chance I get."

She spun on her heel and walked away with a masculine swagger, leaving him standing tongue-tied in place.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Miaka stood before the small square of polished metal and took stock of the rapid changes of the past few hours. In the "Good" column—she now had shelter, a domed tent of nearly six meters in diameter with a stove in the center and a few pieces of beautifully carved wood furniture. Also good—two low cots piled with thick felt blankets and soft furs. In the "Very Good" column was a stomach full of warm food…well, there was that one nervous moment when their hosts had presented her with the traditional welcoming dish of mares' milk curds, but it hadn't tasted as bad as it sounded.

There really wasn't a "Bad" column in all of this, but she'd have to put this outfit in the "I'm Not Sure About This" category.

Miaka fastened the blue knee-length deel at her right shoulder and adjusted the broad, brightly-colored sash that encircled her waist. Embroidered bars of black, blue and red crossed the chest of the deel then abruptly turned down towards her waist, giving the garment a pleasing geometric pattern. Her trousers were soft and loose, and her maroon felt boots were cushioned with sheepskin. No, there was definitely nothing wrong with the outfit.

Except for the hat.

She lifted the wool felt hat and squinted critically at it. It looked like an orange juicer or maybe a strawberry sundae in a bowl, with its cheery scarlet cone rising out of the black turned-up brim. Two long scarlet ribbons served to fasten it under the wearer's chin. It wasn't exactly the sort of thing she would _choose_ to wear, but Tasuki had been adamant about acknowledging the generosity of their hosts by gratefully accepting their gifts.

Sighing, Miaka lifted the hat and carefully placed it on her head, tying the ribbons and squinting at her reflection in the metal mirror. At least Tasuki couldn't make fun of her if he was stuck wearing the same thing.

At that moment, the polished wood door opened, and Tasuki stepped carefully over the threshold. Miaka scowled in indignation. Although he wore a black deel patterned much like her own, he had kept his own boots—_and_ his black headscarf. She was just opening her mouth to confront him when she saw his expression. His eyes were all crinkled up, and he looked as if he were struggling for air.

"I can't help it!" he gasped.

"What is it, Genrou?" Miaka ran up to him, panic-stricken.

"You look… you look…" he reached out and pinched her cheeks, "….so Kawai_iiiiiiiiiiiiiii!"_

"Shut up!" She slapped his hands away from her face, trying to act angry in the face of his laughter. "You told me I had to wear it, so you'd better quit laughing at me! And where is _your_ hat, Mister Smarty-Britches?"

His teeth gleamed in the rose-colored light. "I told them, No thanks, I had my own headgear. But I added that my brother _really_ liked their hats, and would they mind loanin' him one?"

"You set me up, you…_you…_"

"Yep," he said, holding her swinging fists easily above her head. "An' I also set you up for a nice seat next ta the dance circle an' not too far from the cooking fires. The sun's settin,' Mikirou, an' the festival's startin,' so make up yer mind. Do ya wanna grab a bite an' have some fun, or do ya wanna stay in the ger an' pout?"

Miaka pulled out of his grasp and stalked past him with impressive dignity, lifting her chin. "We men do not pout. We call it 'brooding' and attach all kinds of character depth to it."

Suddenly laughing, she skittered out of reach of his swatting hand. Tasuki followed her out of the ger, and they strolled past the horse paddock, pausing to whistle to Makaze and scratch his forelock. The black stallion loomed like a giant over the small, brush-maned horses of the North.

Miaka patted Makaze as he nuzzled at the cone of her hat. "He looks like a prince among peasants," she remarked, looking at the chunky heads and short legs of his paddock-mates. "I'm surprised these horses can carry the Hokkan men; they look hardly big enough to carry _me."_

"Don't underestimate them, an' don't let anyone overhear you talkin' down their horses, Mikirou. The nomads are serious horsemen, an' a lotta those little 'peasants' could give 'Kaze a real run for his money, especially over an endurance course. They're tough an' they're fast, an' believe me, you won't laugh at 'em when they come pourin' over a hill with their riders shootin' arrows at a full gallop."

"Wow." Miaka brushed her fingers through the mane of an inquisitive brown mare, looking at her with new respect. "That sounds like something to see."

"Yeah, an' if this were the summer festival, we'd get ta see all kinds of horsemanship an' shootin' contests. Tonight, however, is for loooove." Tasuki laughed as he intercepted her startled glance. "Baaka! It's the courtship festival, remember? Gonna have some girls checkin' ya out, so ya better hold yerself like a man, Miki."

Privately, Miaka thought that she was likely to be well overshadowed by her "big brother," but she straightened her shoulders and adopted a confident, masculine stance all the same.

A few hours later, full of mutton and chickpea stew, roast wild goose, and milk tea, she found herself glad that they had come in time for the Spring Festival. The entire encampment was practically crackling with joyous energy. Everyone, from the smallest toddler to the eldest great-grandparent, was bedecked in rich, colorful clothing. The men were dressed in deels with colorful sashes—some plain, some bearing geometric patterns like hers and Genrou's—and wore their conical hats so proudly that Miaka was glad she wore one as well. The women exhibited intricately embroidered vests over their jewel-toned deels. They chattered and giggled, their velvet or silk headdresses sparkling with precious stones or waving with cheerful red ribbons.

Miaka sat cross-legged next to Tasuki, clapping her hands as the young men and women whirled merrily before her in a courtship circle dance. The moon had not yet risen, and lamps surrounded the dance circle, giving off a golden glow that pushed back the darkness. Out of the corner of her eye, Miaka noticed Tasuki slipping a gold piece to the ten-year-old granddaughter of the tribal chieftain who had welcomed them.

"What was that for?" she whispered. "Isn't that too valuable to give to a child?"

"Nah, she won't lose it. She'll turn it over to her parent or— Yeah, see, she just gave it to her grandmother. I can't offer the adults money for their hospitality, Miki; that'd be an insult to them. But it's okay ta give valuable gifts ta the kids, and the kids make sure that those gifts make it back to the adults to pay for all the supplies they gave to us."

"How do you know so much about their customs? I thought you were from the South."

"Yeah, I am. But I stayed with the tribes before, once when we—once on our first mission, and later on, when I traveled with Chi—um, a friend."

Miaka shot him a sideways glance. "Forbidden info again?"

"Yeah." Tasuki seemed distracted, tapping his foot in time to the music. He suddenly pointed at the band. "See those instruments, Miki? Every one of them has a horse's head carved inta the top. I told you they were serious about horses."

But Miaka was looking at him thoughtfully. "I think I remember something else about you, Genrou."

"Huh? What's that?"

She pointed an accusing finger at him. "I know why you're sitting there twitching. You want to dance! Why don't you grab a girl and get out there?" She pointed at a group of giggling young women who were sending interested glances at the tall, standoffish stranger, in spite of the fact that he was pointedly ignoring them in favor of his little brother.

"Uh-uh, no way. I ain't leavin' you back here unprotected while I get distracted by some dipshit girl. I don't know everyone in this camp well enough to know if yer safe alone, Miki, so you can quit makin' that face at me."

"I can look after myself for a few minutes, Genrou! I hate to see you stuck babysitting me, when you'd really rather be—"

"It's a dead issue, so drop it. Anyway, the band's stopped for a while."

The dancers had filtered out of the circle, some returning to their seats alone while others looped their arms around their partners' waists. Meanwhile, the musicians put their heads together as they debated the next selection. They seemed to reach agreement fairly quickly, for they went directly back to their places, lifting their instruments or mallets.

A stringed instrument that sounded like a guitar suddenly sang out a syncopated introduction, the major chord progression seeming to call out an invitation. The morin khurr, a horse-head fiddle, answered with a bright, happy melody in 12/8 time, the rollicking rhythm almost impossible for any dancer to resist.

Tasuki turned to Miaka, a wide grin breaking across his features. "It's Boots and Swords! C'mon, Miki!" He pulled her to her feet, but she hung back shyly.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Dance of the Boots and Swords is a courtin' dance meant to impress the girls. It's fer guys only."

"Oh, okay." She turned to sit down again.

"Get up, baka! Yer a _guy_, remember? I'm gonna teach ya how ta dance this, so we can both dance together!"

"Um, I don't know about this…"

But it was too late. Men were streaming into the dance area, and Tasuki had already secured two sets of polished wood sticks from a basket placed at the edge of the circle. He handed one pair to Miaka, who looked askance at the intricate steps and cross-sticking matches already being performed by some of the experienced dancers.

"I don't think I can do this, Genrou."

"Nah, don't watch those guys; they've been doin' this for years, and they fancied up their routines. The basic steps aren't that hard, Miki. Here, watch."

He showed her a basic stomp-kick-stomp, brush forward-back combination that she was able to master after two tries.

"Great, Miki! Now turn like this; yeah, turn…keep goin'...now stomp! Okay, it's time ta add the sticks. Simple--just hit them together twice, then slap them against yer boots twice. Yeah!"

To her surprise, Miaka was able to perform the simple routine in short order, although with not nearly as much grace as her partner. But she grew confident enough to take her eyes off her feet, and so noticed the nudges and glances Tasuki was drawing from the attentive female audience, in spite of his keeping to the simplest version of the steps.

Suddenly their progress around the circle was blocked by another figure: a tall young man with corn-gold hair and a cocky sparkle in his dark eyes.

"What does he want?" she whispered, feeling her heart rate pick up in time to the tenor drums' insistent pounding.

"It's a challenge, a duel. The loser hasta give his sticks ta the winner, an' then leave the dance. Jus' stand back an' watch, Miki."

The blond stranger was obviously a skilled performer, taking a dominant stance as he crossed sticks with Tasuki in the mock duel. Miaka watched anxiously, sensing the thrill of excitement that raced through the audience. From the shouts of some enthusiastic female fans, she guessed that the blond was a popular dancer, taking on the newcomer in their midst.

Tasuki waited for his turn, then performed his steps with his usual grace but no showy moves. Somehow Miaka knew that he was holding back, not wanting to get caught up in even a mock conflict. But soon the music darkened to a minor key, and the blond grew more aggressive, pressing the cross-sticking a little harder than necessary. When Tasuki's turn came up in the next phrase, the blond usurped his place, forcing the seishi back. He grinned in triumph, but his stick slipped, accidentally rapping Tasuki across the knuckles.

'Uh-oh,' thought Miaka, but it was too late. Fire blazed in Tasuki's eyes, and he attacked with celestial speed, his sticks flashing so fast that he smacked his opponent's sticks right out of his hands, sending them catapulting into the air. Jumping up, he spun in mid-air, catching the sticks—'His tessen attack,' thought Miaka, wondering how she knew that—then finished with kicking out his long legs in a Russian jump before landing lightly with all four sticks in his grip.

The crowd erupted in cheers, some of the women screaming and waving ribbons and scarves at the seishi. He bowed with a grin, then bowed to the blond, who began to retreat with a rueful smile.

"Nah, man." Tasuki tossed the sticks back at him. "I ain't interested in drivin' anyone out of the circle. I'm jus' here ta teach my little brother ta dance, so if ya give me a hand, we'll call it even."

"Thanks!" The blond bowed gratefully. "Name's Lev."

"Genrou, Mikirou." Tasuki replied briefly, tapping a stick on Miaka's hat by way of introduction. "But listen, they're almost to the sticking section, so we'd better hurry up!"

Lev and Tasuki placed Miaka between them, then, turning to face the crowd, formed one long line with the rest of the men in the dance.

"Here, Miki, the same as before. Tap your sticks together twice, then out to the sides instead of against yer boots."

The music had switched to percussion only, the drummer tapping out a steady rhythm on the metal rims of his drums, a rhythm that was now matched by nearly all the men in the line. They struck their sticks together and out to the side to tap against their neighbors, as Tasuki had instructed Miaka to do.

But Miaka noticed that Tasuki and Lev were adding extra moves to the simple pattern, twirling the sticks, tossing them and catching them again, then tapping up and down the length of each one in a syncopated beat, while managing to meet up with her sticks in perfect timing. She couldn't help it; she grinned at their flashy moves, and Tasuki grinned back down at her, while Lev kept busy winking at pretty girls in the crowd. Finally they finished by slamming their sticks against their chests in a masculine salute, making the girls break out in cheers once again.

The music dwindled to the voice of a single woodwind, but the rising chord structure built a sense of tension and anticipation. The men broke out of the line and tossed their sticks back into the basket. Tasuki and Lev lined up with Miaka behind ranks of men in groups of three or four, their arms across each others' shoulders.

Suddenly the entire band re-entered in an exhilarating swell of music, catching up the entire crowd. One rank of men after another danced forward, slapping their boots and stomping in a coordinated display of energy and vitality.

"This is it!" shouted Tasuki over the music. "_Strut,_ Miki! Strut for the ladies!"

Miaka moved forward with Lev and Tasuki, laughing as she stomped and strutted as enthusiastically as any man. She danced with joyous abandon between the two skilled dancers, knowing that they looked _damn_ good as a group, and soaking up the cheers of the crowd.

Suddenly Tasuki and Lev locked arms across her shoulders and joined ranks with the other dancers in one huge circle, facing the crowd with their backs to the center. The tempo speeded up, and they danced faster, showing off one last time for the ladies of their choice. Miaka cried out in glee as she felt herself lifted off her feet by the taller men flanking her, spinning faster and faster until the music ended with a flourish and a shout.

The scene degenerated into happy chaos, as dancers left the circle and women rushed towards the men of their choice, bearing cups of honey wine called _boal_. Tasuki snatched a couple of cups of _boal,_ delighting the bearers by kissing their hands, then expertly steered Miaka out of the crowd. She gratefully took her _boal_ and drank deeply as they stood off to one side.

"Hey, not so fast, Miki-chan! That stuff's fermented, and it'll get ya drunk if ya take too much too soon."

"Sorry," she gasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Just thirsty! Gods, Genrou, that was so much fun!"

He squinted past her. "Yeah? Well, hold on, 'cause the fun's jus' beginning. I think the girls found us."

Miaka turned to see a group of giggling girls, ranging in age from ten to about fifteen, pushing each other forward as they offered small posies and bright ribbons to the two strangers. She turned and flashed a grin at Tasuki.

"I don't know, Genrou, they look a little young…but they really seem to be enamored of you. That's what you get for dancing so well."

Tasuki laughed. "Nope, that's what _you_ get for dancin' so well! They ain't here for me, Miki—they're here for you!"

"_What?"_ The rest of her words were cut off as she was mobbed by a horde of adoring fangirls.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Morning light filtered through the window flaps of the felt-walled ger, making Miaka sigh and turn over in her comfortable furs. She could almost sleep for another few hours…except for a nagging headache and an even more nagging bladder. Tossing off the luxurious blankets, she pulled on her boots, shivering and glancing over at Tasuki's cot. Yes, it was empty as she expected, the furs folded neatly at the foot. Tasuki had probably been up and about since daybreak, and she felt a moment's gratitude that he had let her sleep in.

Returning to the tent after taking care of the necessities, she looked around, surprised that he hadn't returned yet. She wrapped herself clumsily and dressed quickly, concealing any pectoral bulges under the thick deel. Maybe he was off somewhere getting breakfast for them, and she could meet him halfway.

Smiling and exchanging greetings with the nomads, she wandered around the encampment until she caught sight of a familiar figure seated beside a smoking _argal_ fire. It was Lev, and as she approached to call out a greeting, she realized that Tasuki was seated beside him, as well as a few elders from Lev's tribe. They appeared to be deep in serious discussion, but Lev caught sight of Miaka and waved her over.

"This is Genrou's brother, Mikirou." Lev introduced her politely to the elder men, "My father, Kiril, my mother-uncle, Vadim, and the leader of our tribe, my grandfather, Afanasi."

Miaka bowed deeply and seated herself beside Tasuki, who frowned at her presence. She kept silent, sensing that something serious was going on, and that Tasuki would prefer that she wasn't there. Well, it was too late now, so the only thing she could do was to make herself as unobtrusive as possible.

Kiril looked at her for a moment before turning back to the other men. "He seems very young for you to be taking him through such dangerous territory. The spring blizzards are unpredictable and harsh in the Fangs of Genbu."

"So I have seen." Tasuki's voice was firm yet respectful. "But this is our path, and we cannot delay."

Miaka was startled by his cultured tones, completely lacking the usual bandit accent.

Tasuki went on. "However, you'd just begun to speak of strange occurrences in the mountains, events that were out of the ordinary…"

Afanasi snorted in amusement, his pale eyes snapping in his broad, deeply lined face. "You might say that. Yes, the destruction of an entire mountain _might_ be considered out of the ordinary."

"An entire mountain? Where?" Tasuki's voice remained politely interested, but Miaka saw one hand clench in the folds of his deel.

Lev jumped in, somehow sensing his new friend's agitation. "Right in the sharpest of the Fangs, the mountain the locals called _Gyokuei._ Crystal Mountain."

Miaka saw Tasuki turn pale, and she spoke up to distract the others. "How can a mountain be destroyed? When did this happen?" She hoped that they would accept her high-pitched yet gruff voice as one of the burdens of male adolescence.

Her hopes were answered, for they didn't seem to find her strange. Uncle Vadim spoke first. "We come from the North, young man, and although we chose a different pass through the Fangs, all of the local tribes were talking of the terrible sky-fire. It happened just two weeks ago, on the night of the new moon—and the next day, they were shocked to see that the peak of Mount Gyokuei was missing from the rest of the Fangs."

Tasuki remained silent, so Miaka pressed on. "What could have caused something like that? Could it have been an earthquake?"

Afanasi shook his head. "We did not pass close, yet I could sense it on the wind. There was nothing of this earth in that destroying force. Whatever happened, it was of the Darkness." The pale eyes fixed on Miaka and Tasuki. "I tell you, my young friends—avoid that place. There is nothing there for you but death."

Tasuki's expression was tight and closed as he rose to his feet, but he bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Ojii-sama. We are indebted to you for your wisdom."

Miaka trailed Tasuki as he walked back to their ger. As she was about to follow him inside, she felt her shoulder caught in a strong grasp.

Lev stood behind her, his laughing eyes now dark and serious. "I don't know what these events have to do with you…and I'm not asking you to divulge any secrets. I just want you to know that whatever you need—supplies or horses or anything—I stand ready to assist you."

Miaka reached up and gripped his hand firmly. "Thank you, Lev." Her eyes turned back to the ger, where she could hear Tasuki moving around inside. "We'll be grateful for your help…because if I know my brother, we'll be leaving within the hour."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Asteroid Belt, Twenty Degrees Galaxial North of the ShiJinTenChiSho**

-

The wind blew eddies of dust across the desolate plain, the swirls seeming to fall abruptly over the sharply curving horizon. A slender figure huddled still and quiet beneath a rocky outcrop, his cloak wrapped tightly around his body, breathing shallowly in the arid wasteland. Suddenly he drew in a deep, rasping breath that ended in a harsh cough, the sound fading quickly in the thin atmosphere.

Chichiri opened a bleary eye to gaze at the metal wall gleaming dimly in the distance. The wall: a blank facade that signified both the tangible and symbolic barrier to his mission. It mocked him in his waking hours and haunted his sleep. He sat up, rubbing the dust from his eye and trying to recapture the rapidly fading images from his dream. Weeping children, mourning mothers, demon creatures terrifying and strange…and something familiar, a presence that haunted him like…like a lost…a lost— He shook his head in frustration as the image disappeared into the depths of his subconscious, leaving behind inexplicable feelings of urgency and despair. He couldn't explain it; he only knew with bone-deep certainty that he _had_ to get behind that wall.

He pushed to his feet, fighting the wave of dizziness that swept through him. In his darkest imaginings, he had never expected that his first obstacle—breaching the hidden base of the Enemy—would prove to be insurmountable. He had walked the entire vast perimeter of the wall, searching desperately for an opening, a chink, any sign of habitation or life, but in all his time here, he'd failed to find even a single line or crease where panels or sheets of metal were joined. The wall remained smooth, impregnable, infuriatingly enigmatic…and he was no closer to discovering what lay behind it than when he had first arrived.

How long had it been since he'd landed in this godsforsaken place? Had it been four days? Ten? The days blended together in confusing periods of darkness and light, unpredictable in length. Daylight sometimes seemed to last for twenty-four hours, but at other times it disappeared with unexpected swiftness, leaving him stumbling and blind in the darkness until the grey light crept back once more.

Chichiri retrieved his small metal bowl from a niche in the rock, lifting it to his cracked lips and swallowing the few teaspoons of condensation that had collected during the night. He knew that he was growing weaker by the hour. His seishi strength would have enabled him to remain fully functional even after three weeks without food, but lack of water would kill him long before that time. If this had been a normal mission, he would have given up and turned for home.

But it wasn't normal…and for the first time in his life, he had no idea where home was. As often and as frantically as he had searched with his ki, home remained as unreachable as a dream. It felt as if his entire world and everything he'd ever loved had vanished out of existence, leaving him stranded in this hellish landscape of rocks and dust. Fighting back the panic that always accompanied that thought, he tried to pull himself together. He needed to formulate a plan while he still had the ability to think.

He contemplated and discarded several plans, each doomed to failure in the face of that insurmountable wall. As much as his mind kept shying away from one last strategy, the elimination of all other possibilities finally forced him to confront the inevitable truth.

There was only one way he would get inside that wall—and that was to be taken in.

As a prisoner.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

_Please,_ his mind whispered. _Go away. I'm not here._

_Nothing's here._

He was answered by a metallic hiss of breath, the sound so close that every hair on his arms stood up in abject terror.

_Gods, please help me. I can't do this. I thought I was strong enough, but now…_

A shower of pebbles rained down on his head, falling into the narrow niche within the rocky outcropping where he had forced his body. A poor hiding place, he knew, but it was the only one he could find as he fled panic-stricken across the rocky plain. Nevertheless, they would have had him long before he reached it had night not fallen with unpredictable suddenness.

He held his breath, not daring to exhale. Barely one meter above him, on the rocky shelf that concealed his body, scratched the razor claws of the beast who hunted him. Just when he thought he might scream or weep or cry out in horror, the shelf above him reverberated with a blow as the creature kicked off into the sky. He watched its spidery shadow race across the ground as it wheeled high overhead, its guttural screeches assaulting his ears. He released an explosive breath as his knees gave out, making him sink down into a miserable huddle as the sharp edges of the outcropping dug into his back.

He knew better than to think he had escaped. They hadn't abandoned their hunt; they were merely regrouping to form a methodical search of the area.

He had very little time left.

His mind went back to that insane moment when he'd stood next to the wall and fired his ki force into the air like a flare. It had seemed like the only thing he could do; the _right_ thing to do. But something had happened to him as he watched the nightmare creatures fly forth from some unseen opening in the wall.

He'd killed enough of them, he and Tasuki together, that he thought they held no horrors for him. But now, seeing those things coming straight at him, realizing that they had no reason to take him prisoner when they could easily kill him where he stood—he felt icy terror take hold of him, wiping every conscious thought from his mind but the animal need to _get__ away._

Even as he had bolted, driving off the nearest of the beasts with his weakened ki attacks, he wondered at the desperation that sent him dashing across the plain in mindless flight. He, who had tempted death more times than he could remember—was life now so precious to him that he couldn't bear to lose it? Or was the thing that drove him to flee nothing more than the simple gut-wrenching fear of the kind of death he was bound to meet at their jaws?

It didn't matter. He would have died in those first moments if darkness hadn't fallen across the land like a concealing cloak. Instead, he'd bought himself a little more time.

But time for what? To shiver in the dark, feeling his body ache from the privations and demands of this disastrous mission? To fight back tears of unexpected grief, knowing that he would never see his home again? He didn't want to die like that, like a frightened animal dragged down by wolves.

_Life and Death, they are two parts of one whole. There is no need to fear death when you are one with your existence. Death is but a gateway to the next level of being._

The words of the Master resonated through his mind, calming his blind panic and leaving him with a sense of clarity. In his mind's eye, he could see the elderly monk sitting in the meditation garden, tracing his crutch along the patterns of stones while imparting wisdom and serenity with his simple words. The garden and monastery were now destroyed, the peaceful monks gone forever…but their teachings would remain part of him as long as he drew breath.

He was a monk. He was a celestial warrior. He knew how to meet death with dignity and honor.

But he was also human, so his hand rose unbidden to the silk bag he always carried inside his shirt. Untying the string, he grasped the small tiles contained within the bag, running his fingers lovingly over their smooth surfaces. They brought him comfort as always, resurrecting a time and place when he'd felt protected, safe…loved.

A velvet voice surfaced through the mists of time. _If you ever have need of me…_

Chichiri's eye flew open. It had been so many years since he had last thought of the true function of the tiles that he'd nearly forgotten their purpose. They were more than a talisman, more than a magical object to hold onto when he was feeling lost or alone… Perhaps if they truly worked, they would serve as a marker for his grave..

He relaxed into a meditative state as his fingers placed the tiles against each other. His conscious mind puzzled over the formation of a cube that had seemed to have many more than three dimensions, but he pushed the rational thoughts aside. As his fingers assembled the cube, he focused his mind on a simple message.

_Doctor, I don't know how many years have passed for you since we last met, or whether you still remember me, but I'm asking for your help. By the time you receive this, I will be dead, but please carry news of my fate to my friend Tasuki…_

His mind continued to flow with the rest of the message, bringing back memories so bittersweet that he nearly wept. But his fingers never stopped moving, assembling the pieces in impossible configurations until the cube suddenly vanished from his grasp. He cast about, trying to find it in the darkness, but it had completely disappeared.

_I hope you find your way, _he whispered silently to the message cube._ Find him and tell him… give him my message but also tell him that I…I've never forgotten him and I still… I'm sorry._

With that, a sense of completion filled his soul. He'd set out to do what he needed to, and now that Tasuki and the others would learn how he'd died, it would be as if he had returned home to them. Regardless of what happened to his body, he was finally going home.

Peace flowed through him, so that when the screech reverberated a few meters from his hiding place, he simply rested his head on his knees and waited for the end. A blast of wind blew back his hair, but he didn't flinch, so deep in his meditative state that he never noticed the groaning sound that now accompanied the screeching, and the flashing of a blue light across the darkened land.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

Kawaii (or Kawaiiiiiiii!) - Cuuuuute!

Ojii-sama-- literally, Grandfather. Term of respect for an elderly man.

Credits: The transdimensional message cube is the creation of Jonathan Blum and Kate Orman, as described in their Eighth Doctor novel, "Vampire Science."

/-/-/-/

Author Note: (4-18-05) Well, well, well…wonder what that flashing blue light signifies?

Hang on, Bridge fans--Hidden Paths is about to get a _whole lot_ wilder!

Now let's backtrack to happier times for Tasuki and Miaka. Like Yuu Watase, I based the Hokkan nomads on the Mongolians, but I also threw in some Russian references (Lev and his entire family have Russian names and are from "The North"), and yeah, okay, the music is Celtic. But _no, _the Dance of the Boots and Swords is _not_ Riverdancing (I'd almost been expecting Purple Mouse to nail me for that.) Nor is it "Seven Brides For Seven Brothers," Mouse-chan! It's an original dance that I mentally choreographed (well, yeah, you _know _that I can dance only in my mind!), and it's primarily based on Russian Cossack Dancing, particularly the Sword Dance. I just kept it to sticks, because I felt that Miaka might be dangerous with a sword in her hand.

Miaka: Oops! Sorry, Tasuki!

Tasuki: (resigned) Well, since ya just cut _that_ off me, I might as well go back to Ryuen's "Expecting" and be a goddamn girl.

Roku: Heeeee, hee, hee, hee!

Tasuki: (scowling) Yeah, shuddup, Roku. I know it's my birthday, so ya jus' hadda do somethin' shitty ta me, dintcha? --if not in the fic, then in the goddamn akugi!

Roku: Happy Birthday, Baby, Mwah! Love you, love you, love you!

Yes, it is indeed our favorite bandit's birthday, so wish him well. And I'm trying to squeak this in before midnight Pacific time, since the site seemd to be down for login nearly all of today. So if the update says April 18, I managed to make it! (addendum: Obviously, I missed my goal! Gyah!)

Aaaaaaaannnnd, speaking of bandit-type people… I have to admit that I based Tasuki's incredible skill with the sticks on my own Real-Life Tasuki's percussion talents. Yeah, my guy has played drums for drum-and-bugle corps, college band, not to mention small dance bands—and has even risen through the ranks to judge Drum Corps International; DCI for those of us in the know. But now he primarily occupies himself with high school band and percussion ensemble competitions. So yeah, all that fancy sticking is something that he knows very well-- and I do too, since he even does it in his sleep! No, I'm not kidding you. When I stumble into bed at 2 AM after finishing writing for the night, he's sound asleep but tapping out drum solos on his chest.

And he'll kill me if he ever finds out that I blabbed about this to y'all!

One last word--you may have noticed the lack of apologies, excuses, and promises about the shocking interval between updates. That's because I've come to the conclusion that I tempt fate every time I swear to add new chapters more frequenly. So I'll quit making promises and only tell you that with Bridge finished, things do look favorable for me updating HP more frequently than once a year.

Plus Ryuen will nag me to death if I don't!

See ya soon!

(Additional Note: Gah! I forgot to acknowledge my intrepid beta readers, Purple Mouse and Ryuen! They are extraordinary women who take on the terrifying task of Editing Roku while under duress! Yes, these crazy chicks have edited _two_ versions of this chapter in a single 24-hour period, starting at 7 PM Sunday night! You have my eternal gratitude, ladies, and probably that of the HP readers who have been spared some of my more egregious mistakes!)

Ja ne!

Roku

(9-6-05) Additional additional note! Thanks to the wonderful input from my ever-alert Unpaid Research Team (aka, you fantastic reviewers), I've learned from Nephtyss that the transdimensional message cube was briefly shown as a large, definitely square white cube in an old, old Doctor Who episode called The War Game, which featured the Second Doctor (we're talking the 1960's here, people--black-and-white TV!). So according to Nephtyss, I must credit the screenwriters Terrance Dicks and Malcolm Hulke for the idea of a messaging device built out of cards/tiles that records thoughts and disappears when complete. The authors of Vampire Science are still credited, however, for its transdimensional properties, e.g. cannot quite be visualized in only 4 dimensions.

My deep gratitude, Nephtyss!


	12. Reunion

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters do belong to me (and yes, the dang text as well:P) and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Warning: This story contains **major spoilers** for Kaze-chan's "It WAS a Normal Day in the Market." For those of you who might become intrigued by some of Subaru's references during this chapter, _go and read that story!_ And don't say you can't find it, because it's listed in my favorites on my author profile. "Market" is a fabulous action-adventure covering the entire Byakko saga all the way through the summoning and beyond. If you're yearning for a good FY fanfiction fix, with great characterizations, breathtaking action, and heart-rending emotion—this is it. Just read it and enjoy.

Acknowledgments: Warm thanks to Shunyata Ryuen and Purple Mouse for their usual excellence in beta-reading under pressure, and a very deep bow of gratitude to Kaze-chan for permitting me to use the plotline of "It was a Normal Day in the Market," for Subaru's and Tokaki's back story.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Chapter 12. Reunion**

-

******Tokyo**

Yui paused in the doorway of the elaborately furnished den in Tetsuya's condo, watching the young Suzaku warrior struggle with the G5 computer. His chestnut ponytail bobbed in concentration as he carefully tapped on the keyboard, then reached out with the mouse and clicked--only to jerk his hands back in dismay as the screen flooded with lurid sexual images. He hammered desperately on the keys, but his actions only resulted in even more images popping up. Finally, in a last gesture of desperation, he tried to cover the monitor with his hands.

Setting the tea tray on a table, Yui moved into the room.

"Here, let me help you."

She leaned over him, noting with amusement that even the tips of his ears were pink with embarrassment. Clicking on the corner of each image, she closed each one, smiling as she heard Chiriko's sigh of relief.

"Gomen nasai, Yui-sama, I never meant for those drawings…for those, er, portraits…"

"Don't worry about it, Chiriko. Actually, it's very impressive that you managed to dismantle Tetsuya's firewall within one hour of learning what a computer is." She paused. "You don't mind if I call you 'Chiriko,' do you? Or would you prefer your given name?"

"No, Chiriko is fine, Yui-sama. It's…well, it's the name that I answer to inside my head, sooo…it's fine."

"Good. But maybe you could grant a favor in return and call me just 'Yui.' The title 'Yui-sama' brings back memories—most of them bad."

There was a moment of silence.

"It must have been terrible for you."

Yui looked up sharply, but there was no irony in the Suzaku warrior's gaze; only sympathy tinged with curiosity. Nevertheless, she was surprised by the sudden upwelling of bitterness in her breast.

"Oh, yes, poor little me. Plotting against my best friend and all of her warriors—and helping to bring about your deaths."

She caught her breath, appalled by her biting sarcasm. What had resurrected that self-hatred from her teen years? Was it being in close proximity to people whose lives she had treated as expendable, people whom she had dismissed as nothing more than characters in a book?

"It _is_ hard to believe, however—that we could be real; that _all_ of this could be real." Chiriko seemed to read her thoughts, waving a hand to take in the room with its modern conveniences. "If I hadn't seen it for myself, I would've been just as unwilling to believe in the reality of your world as you were in mine. Even without the burden of being lost and alone."

Yui turned away abruptly, forcing back the tears. She had vowed back in high school to stop wasting time crying over events in her past, and yet here she was, overwhelmed by the quiet sympathy of a young man whom she had once regarded as an enemy. Although to be honest, she hadn't been aware of Chiriko as anything other than a number: Suzaku Warrior Number Seven, another enemy to be crossed off the list when Miboshi took his life.

"I didn't even know you," she whispered, suddenly horrified by the impersonality of her hatred.

"Nor I you. Except as the beautiful but angry Seiryuu no Miko."

"And now?" She blushed, unsure of why she had asked.

He caught her hand and turned her to meet his clear, honest gaze.

"More beautiful than before—but much less angry. Vulnerable." He hesitated. "Soft."

A strangled laugh escaped her, and he flushed at her reaction.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, Chiriko. It's just that no one calls me soft. They all expect me to be smart and tough and cerebral."

"Not even your…suitor?"

She smiled at the old-fashioned term. "Especially not my suitor. He likes me to be independent and make my own decisions."

"It means that he respects your intelligence."

"Yes, I know," she sighed. "But sometimes it would be nice if he appreciated my intelligence a little less, and some of my other qualities—" She stopped, once again appalled at herself. "Why am I laying all this on you?"

Chiriko stood up. He was only about five inches taller than her, so for once she didn't have to crane her neck to look into a man's face.

"Because you know that I understand. How it feels when people see you only as—" He opened and closed his arms, imitating a giant mouth. "—an enormous talking brain."

Yui let out a peal of laughter. His joke wasn't really that funny, but relief drove her hilarity. Relief at being understood, and maybe at having one oasis of normality in this endless horror-filled night. If there was a tinge of hysteria in her laughter, Chiriko was too polite to mention it, merely smiling in return.

Yui was glad; if she didn't laugh, she might well scream.

"So, you two are having some fun, hmm?"

Tetsuya's tone was cool and sardonic, his eyes enigmatically shaded behind his Ray-bans as usual. Yui caught her breath with a sound that was nearly a sob. Chiriko walked over to join Tetsuya in the doorway, unobtrusively blocking his view of Yui as she struggled to regain control.

"Yui was just being polite, laughing at my jokes to put me at ease. Do you need me back in the kitchen, Tetsuya-san?"

"Yes, we're planning one more strategy session before we catch a little sleep. Yui, do you need a sweater or anything?"

Yui turned to Tetsuya, once more composed. "If you don't mind, I'd like to change out of these…" she indicated her revealing black top and tight jeans from the club, "…into something more…more…"

"Suitable for a warrior priestess," intejected Chiriko. He blushed at their startled looks. "Yui, I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean—"

"No, you're right," said Yui, smiling at Chiriko to dispel his embarrassment. "We have to face reality—and that means that I'd better put on some running shoes, some dark, loose clothing, and maybe a knit cap, in case we have to do any more breaking-and-entering."

Tetsuya looked from one to the other before shrugging casually. "We were actually going to discuss that in the kitchen, but it seems that you two are way ahead of me."

The shades turned and fixed on Chiriko once more. "By the way, Chiriko, since you seem to be on a friendly basis with Yui, there's no need for you to be formal with me. You can call me just 'Tetsuya'; no –san, please. After all, we're going to be working closely together now, aren't we?"

He paused one moment longer before turning and leading them out of the den.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Keisuke carefully placed five ceramic cups on the huge slab of green marble that was Tetsuya's kitchen table. A steaming pot appeared in their wake, as did several hastily thawed mochi—red-bean-filled rice cakes. Another plate soon joined the first, this one bearing freshly-baked puffs of plain mochi, to be dipped in the tiny dishes of soy sauce and sugar placed before each person at the table.

He quickly joined the others on the cushioned tatami mats, swinging his legs around to fit in the sunken well beneath the table. Raising his chopsticks, Keisuke forced a grin.

"_Itadakimasu!"_

_"Itadakimasu,"_ echoed the rest, but only Mitsukake reached for the plates of food. Yui, Tetsuya and Chiriko contented themselves with cups of green tea.

"What's wrong? Why aren't the rest of you eating? I promise that I'm a better cook than my sister."

Yui smiled tiredly at Keisuke's strained humor. "The food looks good, Keisuke, but I think my bed sounds even better. If I eat anything, I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight." She nodded at the faint glow brightening the eastern window. "Or, I should say, this morning."

There was a low murmur of agreement from everyone except Mitsukake, who lifted a red bean-filled mochi with his chopsticks, inspecting it critically before taking an experimental bite. One more bite, and the entire thing was gone. Another cake followed the first, and another—until Mitsukake noticed the silence around the table and found four faces regarding him in awe.

"I'm sorry—did you want any?" he asked, proffering the plate. The others mutely shook their heads. "Fine, then. More for me." He placidly resumed his meal.

Keisuke drew in a deep breath. "Well, I never thought I'd see anyone beat Miaka's record, but I think that you're going to give her a run for her money, Mitsukake."

The sixteen-year-old seishi shrugged, unabashed. "Younger this time," he explained after swallowing the last of the mochi. "Hungry all the time as well. Part of the growing process, from what I can remember."

Blinking at Mitsukake's strange juxtaposition of teen attitude and mature thought processes, Keisuke suddenly wondered how it felt to be the reincarnate seishi. Did Mitsukake feel fragmented and off-balance, or were the seishi naturally resilient when it came to coping with multiple life experiences in the same body? He stole a glance at Chiriko, almost expecting to witness some childlike behavior leftover from his previous life—but caught him smiling at Yui in a very non-childish manner.

Not childish at all.

Keisuke couldn't help glancing over at Tetsuya. His friend's expression seemed as inscrutable as always behind his glasses, but Keisuke could read his tension in the slight tightening of his lips.

Time for a diversion.

"So, as Honorary Suzaku Seishi Number One, I hereby call this meeting to order," he announced, trying to sound like his usual cheerful self.

Silence.

Come on, people. Help me out here. Don't sit there silent and unmoving, as if we're at a funeral. Don't make it so that there's nothing left to say or do, so that I have time to remember—

"_Honorary_ Suzaku seishi?"

Keisuke cast a grateful glance at Mitsukake. "Yes. That's what Chichiri called me and Tetsuya."

"Chichiri-san," murmured Chiriko. "I wonder if he's…I really miss him."

"We all miss him," said Mitsukake, experimentally dipping a piece of baked mochi into the soy sauce and sugar. "And I'm afraid that we're going to miss him more every hour."

Tetsuya frowned. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that if the Universe of the Four Gods over there," he nodded at the book sitting on the marble countertop behind them, "is the dimensional link through which the creatures enter this world, we're going to need a powerful spiritual force to block their passage. Yui may be able to control it briefly, but we can hardly expect her to stay on watch all night and all day."

Yui, Tetsuya, and Keisuke turned to look at the book with expressions of horror, as if something loathsome was watching them from beneath its red leather cover. Keisuke could almost see thin tendrils of black mist curling out from between the pages…

Wait a moment.

"Look!" he shrieked, pulling back from the table.

It _wasn't_ his imagination; something was definitely flowing from the Universe of the Four Gods! The others also jumped up—all except for Mitsukake, who calmly laid his chopsticks beside his plate, pulled his long legs out from the table well, then walked over to the book and slapped an inscribed strip of paper across both covers.

The black mist twisted, then dissipated with a faint hiss.

"Does anyone have a brush and tablet, and can you tell me the current hour in this world?" Mitsukake's calm tones cut through the ragged gasps of the others.

Keisuke rushed to get a pen and paper for Mitsukake. "Five AM!" he choked, looking at the digital clock. "Um, I mean, five hours past midnight."

"Five eh-em it is," muttered Mitsukake, looking curiously at the pen as Keisuke demonstrated its function. "We must keep track of how long the _ofuda_ holds out. You can see that the edges are turning slightly yellow; we should be able to get three or four hours protection from each strip. Unfortunately, Taiitsukun had given me only a few _ofuda_, so we need to get more as soon as we can. Is there a holy man living nearby?"

Yui and Keisuke looked at each other helplessly. "Ummm…"

"Don't you have a village holy man? In a city of this size, I would expect there to be at least a few major monasteries."

"This is a different world, Mitsukake," said Chiriko. "Perhaps the people are not as…close to their gods as we are."

In the sudden, awkward silence, one voice spoke up.

"Oosugi Toki."

"You're right, Tetsuya! How could I forget?" Keisuke turned to Chiriko and Mitsukake. "Toki is a friend we met while researching the ShiJin, the first time Miaka went to your world. He's a Shinto monk and the adopted grandson of Oosugi Suzuno—Suzuno, the Priestess of Byakko!"

"The Priestess of Seiryuu and the descendant of the Priestess of Byakko," mused Mitsukake. "It seems right somehow. How soon can we get a message to Oosugi Toki?"

"Right away. He doesn't have a personal phone, but we can call the monastery and leave a message."

"Five AM. Morning prayers," reminded Tetsuya.

"Gods, do you ever have the mind for details! No wonder you're the brains of our business."

Tetsuya smiled wryly but nodded at Yui yawning at the table. "I think it's time at least some of us went to bed. We have a long day ahead of us. I'll call Toki's monastery in an hour; meanwhile, why don't the rest of you get some sleep? Keisuke, would you please show Mitsukake and Chiriko to the guest rooms?"

"Not me, thank you. I think I'll stay up for a while to watch the timing on the first _ofuda."_ Mitsukake waved at his nearly empty plate. "But if I could trouble you for some more of those sticky rice cakes?"

"I'll bake them," said Keisuke a little desperately.

"No, I'll take care of it. You look about to collapse, Keisuke; go on and get some sleep." Tetsuya's voice brooked no argument. "You can use my suite while Yui takes the large guest room. I'll wake you when it's your turn for watch." He smiled sardonically at the military term.

Keisuke reluctantly followed Yui and Chiriko up the track-lit spiral staircase to the bedrooms. Tetsuya's penthouse condo was huge by any standard, but in Tokyo, it was considered practically palatial. All the same, it was too soon before he found himself alone in Tetsuya's master suite.

He wandered into the luxurious bathroom, complete with a traditional Japanese _furo_ bench and drain, a western-style jacuzzi, and an over-sized glass shower stall. Reaching into the stall, he turned the water on, satisfied when it hit the glass walls with a sound like muted thunder. He undressed, leaving his sweat-stained and slightly bloodied clothes in a pile on the floor, and stepped in.

Alone. With nothing left to do or say. As he had dreaded, the nightmare images came rushing back.

Miaka clinging to him, crying as Chichiri and Tasuki drew her away. Jointed black appendages thrusting through the assassin's eyes. A panic-stricken dash through the back alleys of the Roppongi district. Blood seeping through his sleeve.

An explosion of fire and smoke and roaring sound.

Taka.

Keisuke turned the water up higher. He knew that it was for the best that Miaka had been taken away to safety—but somehow it seemed wrong that there was no one left here to officially mourn Taka's death.

No one who loved him the way she loved him. No one except…

Suddenly he found himself pressed against the tiles of the shower wall, clinging to the mosaic as if the rushing water were capable of dragging him away. He felt the warm torrent pounding on his back, sluicing through his hair, joining with the rivulets already running down his face.

"Taka!" he wept, "Tamahome," curling against the hard ceramic and hoping that the water drowned out his keening cries.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Sairou**

-

The workhorses clopped wearily along the streets of the small town that nestled on the borders of the Imperial City. Their iron-shod hooves struck the hard stone paving of the main thoroughfare, generating sparks that flashed briefly before fading in the slanting light. One lone, surly camel loaded with exotic packages paused and lifted its tail, depositing a load of dung before a pile of discarded cargo baskets, then moved on under the crop of its driver.

One of the baskets shifted irritably. "Great. Wonderful. Now I get to add camel shit to the other exotic scents sticking to my clothes. Haven't you had enough yet?"

Another basket trembled briefly as a snow-white head popped up behind it and ducked down again. Anxious blue-grey eyes met the stormy golden glare of the man crouched beside her.

"Just a few more minutes, please? I only want to see him one more time, and then we can go, I promise."

Tokaki sighed and ran his hand through his equally snowy locks. "Look, Subaru, you should just go up there and talk to him. Just walk twenty paces across the street to his shop, and then you can--"

"I can't." Subaru turned her face away, but Tokaki could still see the flush staining her cheeks. Her reply was low and miserable. "I can't let him see me. I couldn't bear the look on his face if he were to see me like this…"

"Like what?" Tokaki failed to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "You haven't done anything wrong, Subaru! All you've done is advance your age—and it wasn't as if we had any choice. It was grow up now or grow up never, don't you remember?" He gritted his teeth as she shook her head mutely. "Look, he's going to find out about you eventually. Do you really think that gossip about our reappearance in the Imperial City isn't going to filter out here?"

He took a deep breath and tried to control his temper. He knew damn well that he was making her even more miserable—but this was no pleasure jaunt for him, either. The last two weeks had been an exercise in bitter frustration. No matter what he did, she remained distant and moody, and he couldn't help feeling that he was failing some secret test in her mind. If he treated her with polite formality, she looked at him as if she were disappointed in him, but if he tried to act warmer or friendlier, she drew back with an expression of distrust.

Suddenly his frustration boiled over. If he was in a no-win situation with Subaru, then fine—but he was _damned_ if he was going to act like a whipped dog around her. He had had _enough!_

Grabbing her arm, he hauled her up from their hiding place. "Enough of this shit!" he spat. "We're going in there now!"

At that moment, Tokaki's neck was seized in a viselike grip—and for one insane second, he thought that Nuriko had suddenly materialized out of thin air. But Subaru was equally as immobilized as him, her eyes wide with panic as she struggled against the hand that gripped her shoulder. Tokaki felt a hot rush of fury, and twisted to strike out at their attacker, only to find himself shoved roughly back among the baskets. Subaru landed on his chest, her hair spilling across his face and obscuring his vision.

"All right." A man stood above them, his stocky build backlit by the setting sun. "You two have been spying on my shop all afternoon, so I finally decided to let you have a taste of what's waiting for you. Go on then: try and rob me. I'm ready for both of you!"

Tokaki took hold of Subaru, lifting her off his chest and and rolling out from beneath her. He leapt to his feet, ready to fight—but paused when he saw that their attacker had dropped his own fists, his entire body frozen in shock. Suddenly the man stooped and seized Subaru's shoulders, pulling her upright.

Enraged, Tokaki leapt forward—

"Wait!" both Subaru and the man cried out at the same time. Tokaki skidded in the dust, sliding into him, but the man shrugged the seishi off without even bothering to look up. His attention was focused on Subaru as he gently turned her face from side to side, studying her features with awe.

"Doulin-chan?" His voice trembled in disbelief.

Subaru lifted her eyes, fixing the man with a tearful blue-grey gaze.

"Daddy!" she sobbed, and flung her arms around his neck.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Tokaki absently poked his chopsticks into a plate heaped with tender slivers of tea-smoked duck, minced tofu and beef in sweet soy sauce, and green beans flavored with pepper-flowers…and wondered what was wrong with his appetite. Subaru's mother, Tamure Yukari, was an excellent cook, as his first few mouthfuls had confirmed; the atmosphere was warm and congenial; and Subaru herself seemed almost transported, her laughter ringing out as he hadn't heard it since…well, since their last lives together.

Benjiro, Subaru's brother, chattered happily, plying him with questions about his former seishi adventures, while Yukari made sure that his cup and plate were kept full, smiling warmly at him as she served food with one hand and deftly cradled a tiny infant in a sling with the other. Whenever she passed by Subaru, she reached out to caress her newly grown-up daughter's hair and smile at her in wonder.

All in all, Tokaki was in the midst of a warm and loving family gathering…so why was he hiding feelings of restlessness and irritation beneath his polite smile? It couldn't be the fact that from the time that Subaru had reunited with her father, she hadn't bothered glancing at him even once. It couldn't be that he would've been left standing among the baskets as Gennai hustled his daughter home, if he hadn't trailed after them, unnoticed and uninvited. It couldn't be because Subaru and Gennai had kept their heads together through nearly the entire meal, whispering and laughing and sharing some secret language full of obscure references and private, childish jokes.

No, Tokaki reflected, he was man enough not to be jealous of Subaru's closeness with her father. He understood her need to reconnect with the family she loved so dearly. If it meant that she had forgotten his existence in the interim, then he'd be just fine with that as well.

Just.

Fine.

Too late, he realized that Yukari had paused behind him, looking at his untouched plate in dismay.

"Tokaki-san! Please forgive my simple cooking—if the food displeases you, I'd be happy to make any dish you request!"

A sudden silence fell across the table, and all eyes fixed on Tokaki. He felt a warm flush rise in his face.

"No, Tamure-san; the food is excellent. I'm just a little, er, tired from our journey, and so I…I'm eating, um, more slowly than usual."

To prove his point, he snatched up a piece of beef in his chopsticks and shoved it in his mouth. It was so tender that it nearly melted on his tongue, the sweet tang of the soy sauce giving it an irresistible piquancy—but at the same time, he looked across at Subaru, her expression shuttered and closed now that he had spoken, and the bitterness rose within him so that he nearly gagged. He snatched his teacup and drained it.

"Sorry!" he gasped. "Swallowed some pepper seeds by mistake."

Benjiro laughed, rescuing him from the awkward moment, and he grinned gratefully at the boy. However, he now found himself the object of Gennai's attention. The startling contrast of the man's light green eyes against his dusky skin lent his gaze a penetrating quality that did nothing for Tokaki's strained nerves.

"Good recovery," Gennai said, and although his mouth curved in amusement, the smile didn't reach his eyes. Tokaki resisted the urge to squirm in his seat like a seven-year-old. "It's never wise to insult your mother-in-law's cooking."

"She's not his mother-in-law!"

Once again, silence fell.

"I mean, we're not—This is a new life, Daddy!" Subaru sent a pleading glance at her father. "Tokaki and I aren't husband and wife; we're just…fellow Byakko seishi."

Tokaki violently shoved himself to his feet, sending his chair spinning backwards. He turned and caught it before it crashed to the floor, then looked up to see the Tamure family staring at him. Yukari and Benjiro looked shocked and distressed, while Gennai fixed him with a narrow, measuring gaze. Only Subaru kept her eyes downcast, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Gritting his teeth, Tokaki forced his temper back under control. So he was an embarrassment to her, was he? If that was her attitude, then so be it. He'd show her that he didn't need to humiliate her before her family as she had just humiliated him. He bowed politely before them.

"Excuse me," he apologized in a low, controlled voice. "I've just remembered something I left in the saddlebags."

He backed towards the door, knowing that if it hadn't been inexcusably rude, he would have teleported away from Yukari's warm, pitying gaze.

"By the horses," he explained dully. "In the barn. I just…"

Mercifully, he felt the hard wood of the door against his back. Making a final abbreviated bow, he turned and fled into the evening light.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Subaru pulled her mother's shawl tighter around her shoulders as she approached the shadowed figure seated by the brazier. The red glow of the embers flickered across the beloved features, and she felt a wave of nostalgia sweep through her. How many happy nights had they spent gathered around the small outdoor fire, laughing and teasing and enjoying one another's company? She had taken her happiness for granted, as all children do, blithely certain that she would always be secure and untroubled in his protective embrace. Now that 'always' no longer existed for her, the memories of her recent past held a sweetness that was close to pain.

"Sit beside me, Doulin-chan."

He hadn't even turned around, and yet he'd sensed her distress, as usual. She hurried to join him on the sturdy bamboo divan, its ugly cushions flecked with tiny holes where sparks had landed over the years. Part of an unwanted bequest, the bulky couch had long been delegated to the outdoors, where it served over the years as fireside divan and children's playset.

Gennai smiled at her as she settled in beside him, then turned his gaze back toward the barn which stood nearly fifty meters away. It was a small structure, built to hold the few animals that a merchant like Gennai kept only for his household use: two horses, a dairy cow, some ducks and chickens, as well as two empty stalls for visitors' mounts. The glow of lamplight spilled from its windows, occasionally obscured by a passing shadow.

Subaru shifted her weight guiltily. "So he's still out there?"

"Yes. He's long since finished looking after your horses, so he took to mucking out all the stalls, and from the contented lowing I heard a while ago, I believe that he even gave old Yasu a good curry-brushing."

She laughed in spite of herself. "Yasu the _cow?"_

"Yes; she's never had it so good. And my barn hasn't been so thoroughly cleaned in years." Suddenly her father's penetrating stare was directed at her. "So tell me about this young man, Doulin. What has he done that's so unforgivable? Do you hate him?"

Subaru felt her breath catch in her throat. "I don't hate him, Daddy."

"Well, you don't seem to like him very much. Rejecting him like that, right in front of the people he was trying to impress."

"What was I supposed to do? Introduce him as my husband, invite him into my _bed?"_ Subaru stopped, aghast at the words she had flung at her father. She raised her hands to cover her mouth. "I'm sorry, Daddy!"

Gennai didn't seem shocked, however, merely shaking his head and smiling. "I'd always believed that you were the image of your mother, Doulin-chan, but now I see that you have more than a little of your old man's temper, not to mention his tendency to thoughtlessly blurt out hurtful things. And from what little I've seen of that hothead over there, I don't wonder that you two are having trouble getting along."

"That's not it. It's not about quarrels or personality clashes or petty things like that. Tokaki wants…he wants things between us to be the same as they were in our past lives…but I can't do that. What's the point of building on the past if you have no future? And that's what we don't have: a future."

Gennai straightened, turning Subaru's pale face to his. "What do you mean, no future? Is the situation with the Enemy that hopeless?"

"No…well, I don't know. Hopeless isn't the right word; all of the Four Gods and their seishi are planning to fight, and we're far from giving up hope. I wasn't talking about the Enemy; I was talking about…me."

She lowered her gaze and swallowed, fighting for control.

"Tell me."

Subaru shook her head, tears spilling helplessly down her cheeks.

"Come now, Doulin-chan, you know that you can tell me anything. It seemed just a short while ago that you were confiding all of your daily woes to me."

She gave a strangled half-laugh, half-sob. "Lost dolls and hair-pulling fights with Keiko next door--if only I could go back to those days! Crawling into your lap, sobbing out my troubles, knowing that you would make the world all better the way you always did…how I wish that I could be your little girl again!"

A strong pair of arms seized her and pulled her so that she ended up on her father's lap, her head tucked beneath his chin.

"Listen to me, Tamure Doulin, Byakko no Shichiseishi Subaru. You will always be my little girl—_always!_ No matter what games the gods play with Time, no matter if I'm a doddering old man of ninety and you're a plump old grandmother of seventy-two, you will _still_ be my little girl, and this lap is always available for you!"

She laughed and cried and snuggled into him, this man, this hero, this stalwart rock of her existence. The little girl inside her found comfort in his strong and solid bulk, but her adult memories whispered that he couldn't help her this time. How could he, when the danger came from _within_ her, triggered by events that she had been caught up in before his grandfather was born?

She shuddered, and he held her tighter.

"Talk to me, Doulin."

Maybe it was the note of command in his voice or maybe it was just her weariness from carrying the burden all alone, but suddenly the words began spilling from her lips. Pouring out jumbled and stilted, they painted a vivid picture of the shadow beasts' attack on Mount Gyokurei; showing her childish sense of helpless terror exacerbated by her adult knowledge of their mortal danger. She told it all: the terrifying escape to Mount Taikyoku, followed by the forced decision to trade years of their childhood in exchange for their seishi powers--and her words slowed, becoming ominous and dark as she recounted Taiitsukun's refusal of Suboshi's plea.

"She said he would go insane." Subaru's words were soft, tinged with horror. "She said that he had caused the death of innocent people in his last life, and that the rapid aging we were to undergo would eventually eat away at his mind. He had to atone through the deeds of his new life instead of keeping the memories of his former sins…or he would go mad."

"But what does that have to do with you, Doulin-chan?"

"Nothing…everything…I don't know! There's so much that I remember, and yet so much I can't understand! I keep asking myself--what did I do in my last life to deserve this punishment? Why am _I_ the one who is going insane?"

It was too much for her, hearing the words spoken aloud, like a curse from her own lips, She wailed into her father's chest, her hands clutching convulsively at him as his arms tightened almost painfully around her.

Suddenly she felt another pair of hands stroking through her hair, a soft voice murmuring words of comfort. "Hush, baby, shhh, Doulin. Stop crying, my love, and tell us what you mean."

Without raising her head from Gennai's chest, Subaru reached out to catch her mother's hand. Half of her felt embarrassed for losing control, but the other half felt strangely comforted, releasing her hidden fear and grief into their loving embrace. After a while, the storm of tears faded back to a trickle, and she drew a deep, shaky breath.

"Thank you," she quavered, trying to regain her adult voice.

"Don't be silly, Doulin," Yukari gently scolded her. "We're always here for you, you know that. But we can't help you if you won't tell us what's going on."

"She says she is losing her mind," explained Gennai, his voice dull with shock.

"Yes, I know, I was listening. I heard everything. But," Yukari placed a firm hand under Subaru's chin, forcing her daughter to meet her gaze, "why do you think that, Doulin? Why would Taiitsukun protect Suboshi from madness but not you?"

"Maybe she didn't know all of my past. Despite what you might believe, she doesn't know everything."

Yukari shook her head. "From what you told your father, Taiitsukun said that the basis of disqualification was that the seishi had to have brought about the deaths of innocents. I've certainly never heard of any such slander against Byakko no Subaru."

"It's not that simple!" Subaru fought back a rush of irritation. "I myself might never have put a sword to anyone outside of Kutou soldiers, but there are levels of responsibility…"

She trailed off, her mind suddenly flooding with images from her last life, inexplicably, cruelly clear.

_A haggard face, mocking and taunting her. Tokaki, roaring with frustrated rage. Suzuno, her priestess, eyes dark with implacable coldness. A sudden flurry of motion, a child's high-pitched voice—then the flash of a sword and the spurt of fresh blood._

She hadn't realized that she'd brought her hands up to clutch at her hair until Yukari caught them, gently disentangling her. She dimly felt her mother caress her hair as she stared horrified into her own past. _Why_ was this happening to her? Had her own desire for vengeance transmitted itself to Suzuno, causing the priestess to summon that demon into their midst? No, she couldn't know that for certain. But this was the only death of an innocent that she could recall from her past, and so the reason for her madness had to lie somewhere in that disastrous event.

"Doulin, you must explain it to us. Exactly what do you believe is happening to you?"

Subaru was too weary and numb to cry anymore. "Taiitsukun said that the new soul would not accept the tainted former life. She said that the new and former lives would conflict, and…and that madness was the result."

"That seems incredibly vague." Gennai seemed to have snapped out of his shock, his eyes bright and alert.

Subaru didn't see her parents exchange significant glances. "It doesn't seem so vague when you're the one experiencing it," she replied with a teenager's sullenness.

Yukari pressed her point. "But neither Taiitsukun nor Byakko had ever told you that you were condemned to madness, isn't that right? How strong is this mental conflict, Doulin-chan? Do you hear disembodied voices? Do you wake somewhere with no memory of how you got there?"

"No, nothing like that." Subaru searched her mind, trying to recall what triggered the feelings of child versus grown woman. Suddenly she flushed scarlet. "It…it seems to happen when I'm near Tokaki. When he wants…and I don't—or I do—or I'm not sure…" The words stuck in her throat, and she found herself unable to meet her father's eyes.

Gennai seemed calm, however, merely nodding at the expression on his wife's face. "Just as I thought. Well, I think it's time I left you women to have a cozy talk, while I spend some time with my future son-in-law." He stood up and dusted off his trousers.

Subaru grew alarmed. "Daddy, he hasn't done anything! I have him completely under control, I promise!"

"And I think that's where most of your problem lies," replied Gennai cryptically before turning and heading towards the barn.

Subaru turned back towards her mother, her blue-grey eyes wide with dismay.

Yukari laughed. "Don't worry, your father has no intention of fighting with Tokaki. At least, I don't think he has." She leaned forward, catching both of Subaru's hands in hers. "Tell me, Doulin-chan…Subaru. What do you remember of your past life? Are all of the memories right there before you at all times, or is it the way it is for most adults, in that something triggers a memory deep within you?"

Looking down at their clasped hands, Subaru tried to think. "I suppose it's that way for me. I only remember when something causes me to."

"Do you have memories from your past life of how it felt to be a normal teenaged girl? Boys who courted you…your first love?"

Subaru gave a choked laugh. "I was never a normal teenaged girl, Mother. By the time I started noticing boys, I was already a Byakko seishi, caught up in politics and war. As for my first love…" she hesitated, "...that was Tokaki." She flushed and fell silent.

Yukari brushed a stray lock of hair from Subaru's face. "Let me tell you a story, Doulin. When I met your father...well, he swept me off my feet. He was so powerful, so certain of the fact that he wanted me, and that nothing would stand in his way. I wanted him just as much, but I was also frightened of changing my life and giving up everything I had. I was very close to my mother, and part of me wanted to stay with her, be her little girl forever. Because it was safe, and while I was with her, I knew what the future held. Your father, however—he represented danger and the fear of the unknown."

She cleared her throat and continued. "So during our courtship, I was confused. At times I felt like a little girl, and then I would reject him and send him away. I had only just turned seventeen, you see. But he would always return, more determined than ever…and I realized that I loved him. I would suddenly feel like a woman, and find myself…wanting him. But there were always those times when I felt fragmented: part little girl, part woman. And I didn't even have past-life memories to confuse me."

Eyes wide and hopeful, Subaru gripped her mother's hands. "So you think that everything I'm feeling is normal—that I'm not going mad?"

Yukari's smile was tinged with pain. "As normal as life can be for a reborn Byakko seishi. Doulin, I know that my love for you drives my reasoning, but I truly do believe that you're perfectly sane. I wouldn't lie to you to make you feel better."

Leaning into her mother's slender arms, Subaru felt the heavy grief leave her heart for the first time since she left Mount Taikyoku. Maybe her mother and father were right. Maybe she was overreacting to the normal conflict felt by every reborn seishi. But in that case, why didn't Tokaki…?

She blurted the question out loud. "Then why doesn't Tokaki seem at all conflicted between his past and present lives?"

"My love, do you think he would confide any doubts about himself to you?" Yukari smiled, remembering the poignant vulnerability she had seen in his face just before he fled the house. "He's trying to win your heart, so it's only natural that he would present himself as a strong, confident man."

Subaru chewed her lip, thinking over Yukari's words. Was Tokaki playing a role just the way she was? Was he equally as frightened of what the future held, and did the past haunt him the way it did her? A shadow darkened her thoughts once again.

Tokaki hadn't had all of the experiences that she had lived through.

Her breath caught in her throat as the poisonous images rose before her once again.

_Cold, unfeeling eyes. Hands tearing at her clothes, while other hands held her down. The terror of the rough grasp of strange men._

Subaru buried her head in her mother's breast. It was over and done with, that life now dead and gone. She'd managed to find a way to live with it in her last life; she couldn't let Taheiji's evil follow her into this new life.

But could she ever be certain of her worthiness, when she'd harbored a hatred so deep in her soul that she'd wanted a man dead at any price?

_A child's cry. The flash of a blade._

She shuddered, forcing the images back. No matter what lay in her past, she had a role to play as a shichiseishi. Suddenly, she was overtaken by a sense of fatalistic resignation. The future held whatever it held: life or death, sanity or madness. Tormenting herself wouldn't give her control over a future that was even out of the hands of the gods themselves. All she could do was to act the part of the resolute warrior.

Maybe that's what Tokaki was doing as well. She could hardly allow herself to be any less courageous than him.

For the first time in this life, the thought of Tokaki made her feel warm inside. He no longer seemed so much a threat as perhaps a…kindred spirit. If only she could find a way to handle her own fears and reach out to him. She pulled away from her mother's embrace to look into her eyes.

"Mother, how did you manage to resolve your own conflicts about Daddy?"

Yukari's laugh drifted into the starry night.

"I took my courage in both hands, and…I married him."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Gennai stepped through the door and into the golden glow of lamplight. The other man didn't look up, apparently absorbed in his task of polishing horse tack, but the slight trembling in his fingers gave away his awareness of Gennai's presence.

He strode over to the seishi, absently noting his moonlight-colored hair, startlingly similar to that of Doulin's. A handsome boy, worthy of his daughter as far as looks were concerned…but it was his character that interested Gennai.

He pointed a finger at the edge of the saddle. "You missed a spot."

Tokaki looked up at last, the slanted golden eyes dark with a kind of resigned hostility. For a moment, Gennai thought that he could have been looking into the eyes of Suzaku no Tasuki. Perhaps each of the four gods had its own version of the mercurial, hot-tempered seishi.

For some reason, that thought amused him, and he pulled up a stool next to Tokaki's. "Aren't you going to defend your work?"

Tokaki shrugged, still rubbing at the saddle with a rag. "I've come to accept the fact that nothing I do is good enough for the members of the Tamure family."

"Well, that was an interesting display of self-pity."

Tokaki refused to rise to the bait. "It's not self-pity, it's realism. Why should I keep beating my head against the wall? I'm better off accepting things as they are, instead of hoping for them as I want them to be."

"So how do you want things to be? You want my daughter in your bed?"

His bluntness got a reaction at last. Tokaki's eyes flashed with fire, and he jumped up from his stool, towering over Gennai with his hand on his sword hilt.

"I never allowed anyone to disrespect Subaru in our last lives, and I'm not about to allow it now! Not even if it's her own father!"

"Settle down, hothead, I wasn't slandering my own daughter, who means more to me than you'll ever understand. I was just trying to find out what you expect from her."

"I don't expect anything. Not anymore."

"Back to the self-pity," sighed Gennai. "Here, pick up your rag, sit down, and get back to work."

Tokaki hovered, uncertain for a moment, before snatching the rag out of Gennai's hand and turning back to the saddle, scrubbing at it with displaced fury.

"So you've given up on my daughter. That explains why you didn't come out to comfort her when you heard her crying. And don't pretend that you didn't hear her. She was wailing loud enough to wake the emperor in his palace."

The rag slowed for a moment before resuming its frenetic pace. "She doesn't want my comfort. Don't you remember? All I am to her is a colleague; I don't even rank as a friend."

"Wouldn't you have been concerned about such distress in any of your seishi colleagues?"

Tokaki's lips lifted in a frustrated snarl. "She had you there with her. Now that she's back with her family, she doesn't need me for anything at all."

"Jealousy in addition to self-pity. I have to be honest, Tokaki, you're not coming off very well as a possible suitor for my daughter's hand. She needs someone who's capable of looking after her."

In one swift movement, Tokaki picked up the saddle and threw it across the barn, making the horses squeal in alarm when it crashed against the far wall. He whirled on Gennai, and the older man was startled to see tears in his eyes—tears of rage but also genuine pain.

"Someone who's capable of looking after her! I was looking after her when you were still a snot-nosed toddler scrabbling in the dirt! But none of that means anything to you, does it? And the worst part is that none of that means anything to her, either!"

He pointed a finger right in Gennai's face. "Do you have any idea of how it feels to love someone, then have them spit in your face? To remember a lifetime of loving each other, being there for one another, and then having it end up meaning nothing at all? We were _more_ than husband and wife! We were seishi partners, fellow warriors who fought in two major wars together, not to mention any domestic skirmishes that popped up through the years. And more than that, we were best friends who shared both the brightest and darkest moments of our lives. But now, all I am is someone for her to reject and for you to taunt. Do you have any idea how it feels to be told that you'll _never_ be worthy of the woman you love?"

Gennai reached up and caught Tokaki's hand in a strong grip before pulling it down and holding it between both of his.

"Sit down, Tokaki." His voice was as surprisingly gentle as his gesture. "Sit down…son."

Tokaki stood still for a moment before pulling his hand out of Gennai's grasp. He swiped angrily at the tears on his face, but pulled up his stool and sat down.

"As a matter of fact, I _do_ know how it feels to be told that I was unworthy of the only woman I would ever love. Here, give me your hand again. Don't be stubborn."

Gennai took Tokaki's hand but instead of holding it, he put their arms side by side. There was a startling contrast between Tokaki's fairness and Gennai's dusky, tea-colored skin.

"Do you see? Yukari's skin and hair are only a shade darker than yours and Doulin's. She's a snow spirit next to my earthy darkness. And although we live in the enlightened, protected land of Byakko, where all men are equal regardless of tribal origin—there is still the human tendency to discriminate against those whose skin is dark rather than light."

Gennai released Tokaki's arm and propped his chin in his own hand. "It's a strange prejudice that happens even within a single tribe or family group. The girl with pale skin is considered a far greater prize than a more beautiful girl whose skin is dark. Perhaps it's a type of class prejudice—you know, the peasants who work in the fields tend to have dark, tanned skin as compared to the pale nobles who live in their shaded homes. Regardless of what drives this prejudice and whether or not it is unjust—it exists, and that's a fact that those of us with dark skin must live with."

His green eyes grew distant with memory. "But the heart is not a practical organ, Tokaki. It often denies reality. So although my friends all told me that I was insane, I couldn't help falling in love with the fairest daughter of my father's wealthiest colleague. Yukari. Her father came right out and told me that there was no way that I would ever be accepted as a suitor for her hand, although I came from a family of respectable merchants. My father begged me not to endanger the family business by my obsession with an unobtainable girl." His eyes met Tokaki's and crinkled in amusement. "I obviously did not pay either man the proper amount of filial respect."

Tokaki sighed. "But I assume that Yukari herself wanted you. That's the difference between us; you might have had to deal with your family's disapproval, but not with Yukari's rejection."

"That's where you're wrong. Yukari rejected me every other week." He grinned at Tokaki's stare. "Yukari and Doulin are alike in many ways, especially in their attachment to their parents. Doulin is a Daddy's girl and Yukari was a Mommy's girl. They love the closeness between them and their parents, and we as parents love them just as much. Not to mention, each is a little frightened by what commitment to a man means:

"Sex."

Tokaki flushed red but kept silent. He could hardly deny Gennai's insight after his first aggressive approach to Subaru.

Gennai went on as if he hadn't noticed Tokaki's embarrassment. "It wasn't that I was the only interested party in our relationship. If Yukari had at any point told me, 'Sorry, but I'm honestly not attracted to you, and I wish you would leave my life,' she would never have heard from me again. I'm not the kind of man that forces a woman. But I could tell that she wanted me around; she just wanted me around in a way that wouldn't disrupt her comfortable little life. So every time she told me, 'No, I can't go with you'—I left."

He smiled to himself. "Long enough that she would miss me; not so long that she would forget me. But I always came back."

"I don't know." Tokaki sounded weary and defeated. "I'll be honest with you, Gennai. I'm tired of jumping through hoops at your daughter's whim, especially since it doesn't seem to work anyway."

"Of course it doesn't work! No woman is going to respect a man who rolls over when she snaps her fingers. I'm not saying that you should sell your soul in your desire to please her. If she knows that she can do anything she wants and that you'll always be waiting patiently, you're in for a very long wait, my friend."

"But I thought you said that you always came back, no matter how many times Yukari rejected you."

"I wouldn't say 'no matter how many times.' I had my limits, and each time I left, it was for a little longer period of time. I let her know that my patience was wearing thin. We might have gone on like that for years, but one day, after I'd been courting her for fourteen months, I'd had it. I told her that I was leaving in the morning, and although I would always love her, I would _make_ myself live without her. So she could either join me or say goodbye for good."

"And?"

"And she showed up in my room that night, her possessions in a sad little bundle. Neither of us ever looked back."

Tokaki pushed his hand through his hair. "I'm glad for you, Gennai, but I don't see how this helps me with Subaru. I can't really leave her; we're stuck on this mission together. And after our long history, I can't see why she doesn't—"

"Just fall into your arms? Maybe it's because regardless of her name, she's not the Tamure Doulin you were once married to. And you're not the same man either; Hahm Lanva died ten years ago, right after the Kutou-Konan War. You may share the same souls and memories, but they're in new bodies, newer even than they look. If you want her…if you truly love her, then you'll court her with the same care as if she were an attractive stranger that you've just met. Because she is."

Tokaki was struck by the wisdom in Gennai's words; the same insight that Nuriko had tried to impart that last day in the Konan mountains. If he and Subaru were truly as much influenced by their new souls as their old ones, then her fear of him was not an insult to their long relationship but rather the understandable skittishness of a girl with her first suitor.

One corner of his mouth tilted up. His memories were good for more than just personal regrets; he had a much clearer idea than most nineteen-year-olds as to how to win a woman's heart. One hundred years of experience couldn't be all wrong.

He met Gennai's frank gaze. "A woman is like a fish," he quoted an old Sairou drinking song.

Gennai grinned back. "Reel her in soft…"

"Reel her in hard…"

"But never cut the line and let her go!" they both shouted.

"Come on," said Gennai, throwing his arm across Tokaki's shoulders. "Come up to the house and have some supper before you go to sleep. You never did get to enjoy your mother-in-law's cooking."

"Mother-in-law? Aren't you being a little overconfident?"

"Of the legendary courtship abilities of Byakko no Tokaki? I'll have you know, son, that I'm a cautious man, and I only bet on a sure win."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

******Asteroid Belt, Twenty Degress Galaxial North of the ShiJinTenChiSho**

_-_

_The Way does not belong to things seen, nor to things unseen._

-

The words of the Master flowed through his mind, creating a quiet oasis within the vortex of noise and light that marked the end of his physical existence. He was dimly aware of the shrieking, groaning cacophony around him, and the roaring winds that ruffled his hair, but they existed only as faint murmurs running beneath his trancelike state.

As he meditated, he released the ties that bound him to his earthly existence.

First, his pride: Suzaku no Shichiseishi Chichiri.

-

_The Way does not belong to things known, nor to things unknown_.

-

In the next plane of existence, it mattered nothing if he had been warrior or peasant, animal or child.

Next, his learning: Monk of Suzaku.

-

_Do not seek it, study it, or name it._

-

There was no longer any need to seek knowledge; knowledge would be granted him or withheld, depending on his soul's worthiness.

Finally, his identity.

"Houjun."

Yes, Ri Houjun, born poor and fatherless, now to transcend the bonds of his origins and the experiences of his life.

-

_To find yourself on the Way…_ _open yourself wide as the sky_

-

"Houjun!"

He almost flinched back from the iron grip that seized his shoulder but forced himself to remain calm, using the last of his courage to open his eye and face Death…

…only to see an achingly familiar blue-green gaze staring at him through the darkness of the alien landscape.

"Doctor," he rasped.

"Yes, excellent, you're awake at last, but…"

"Doctor!"

Gratitude flowed through him, gratitude that the gods had granted him this one last vision as he left this familiar existence. The face of his beloved friend; his _beloved_… He struggled to form words around the lump in his throat.

"Doctor, I know you're only a vision, but…I'm glad that you're here with me. Here, at the end of everything."

The blue-green gaze softened.

"Houjun, there's something you must know—I don't believe in unhappy endings. So listen to me when I tell you, _Run!_"

In a flash, Chichiri was hauled to his feet and pulled along with tremendous force, practically skimming above the ground in the wake of flying velvet coattails. Before him gleamed a flashing blue light atop a tall rectangular box, while above him screeched the nightmare beasts, the leathery flapping of their wings accompanied by the clash of their metallic jaws. Just on the edge of his hearing was a high-pitched whine issuing from a small silver stick held high above his head.

The nightmare beasts veered off, shrieking, and he found himself diving straight at the closed doors of the blue-lit box. Just as he braced himself for impact, the doors opened and he fell, passing through the shiver of spatial displacement, ending up on his hands and knees on a hard smooth surface. He looked up to see…

…the room that had so often haunted his dreams. It was just as he remembered it: the vaulted ceiling soaring up to blend with the night sky, lit by strange but beautiful patterns of stars. Beneath the starscape, the golden glow of lamplight illuminated the dusky sheen of books and the gleam of myriad devices that ticked as they marked the passing of the hours. Carved wood chairs with thick brocaded cushions clustered around a low table bedecked with a silver tea set, the fragrant steam still rising as tea dripped into a saucer from an overturned cup.

In contrast to the warm domestic setting, one side of the chamber was dominated by a tall glass column roiling with multicolored swirls of light, surrounded by a five-sided console adorned with levers and strange glass dials.

Chichiri pushed to his feet and stood swaying, staring in disbelief, while a figure brushed past him and leaped up to the console, moving with its characteristic combination of manic energy and otherworldly grace. The man's wavy, collar-length hair hid his face as he bent over the console, his hands urgently pushing buttons and pulling levers.

"Doctor."

Chichiri barely recognized his own voice, dry and raspy with disuse.

"In a moment, Houjun. We must dematerialize before they get a firm fix on our energy signature. Come on, old girl, I need…ah yes! Here we go!"

The column rose and fell with a fainter version of the wheezing groan from outside, and the vista overhead soon changed to hypnotic swirls of light twisting in strange helical patterns.

The Time Vortex. The TARDIS.

The Doctor.

Chichiri moved forward, his feet now sinking into the thick oriental carpet, and despite the surreal surroundings, he knew that it _was_ real, all of it—not a dream as so many times before, but as real as the carpet beneath his feet, as real as the man at the console, who at any moment now would look up, and then—

The Doctor lifted his head, and their gazes met.

He was exactly the same; the Doctor's features had not aged a day, in spite of the fourteen years since they had last met. Had it been as long for the Doctor—or half as long or ten times as much, or had any time passed for him at _all_? No, that last guess was wrong. Even with the TARDIS, it had been years for the Doctor as well. Houjun could see it in the increased sadness in the time lord's eyes, in the depths carved by bitter experiences and time's relentless grasp.

Yet…suddenly it was as if those years had never passed, and Chichiri felt them fall away from him; years in which he'd been the strong, wise celestial warrior, introspective and controlled, guiding and protecting his seishi brothers and miko; years in which, he suddenly realized, he'd tried to be _The Doctor_ for them.

Time fell away, and once again he was only Ri Houjun, lost and sad and alone, except for this one man who—this one man that—

He closed the distance between them, or the Doctor did; he wasn't quite sure which happened. All he knew was that he was grabbing onto fistfuls of velvet and silk, clinging to the slight yet strong frame, pressing his face into brown-gold waves that smelled of sandalwood and ozone and stardust…and being held fiercely in return, trembling hands stroking through his hair as they had so long ago.

But he wasn't crying; he was too old to cry, right? Nor was the Doctor, murmuring broken phrases in the syncopated language of his homeworld. They were just breathing a bit fast, gasping a little, and if their breaths hitched from time-to-time, it was only because they were clinging so tightly to one another.

It rose before him then, sharp and clear and bittersweet: the memory of the last time that he had held the Doctor, their last moments together outside the gates of the old monastery. And he realized that for the first time since that parting, he was once again whole and complete.

He had come home.

******/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

Time passed in its usual measureless way within the time machine.

Chichiri didn't know why, but suddenly his surroundings grew dim, indistinct, as if viewed through a veil of thin silk.

He became aware of sitting on a cushioned chair, and the Doctor's face disappearing from his sight. He started in sudden fear.

"No, don't panic, I'm right here, Houjun." A cool cup was placed in his grip. "You must drink, but sip slowly. You're badly dehydrated."

He sipped at the water, chanting a mantra to himself to keep from gulping it. His sleeve moved, and he heard a faint hiss as something cold touched his skin.

"It's just a shot of some electrolytes. As I said, you're depleted, and we can't afford to wait."

None of this mattered to him. All that mattered was that the Doctor was here with him, talking to him, literally within arm's reach. If he could only find his voice, he would reassure the Doctor that he was perfectly all right.

He _was_ all right…until the shaking began.

He didn't notice it at first, but suddenly water splashed out of his cup onto the table, and no matter how he tried to stop, he couldn't seem to control his violent shuddering.

The Doctor was at his side in an instant, muttering oaths in his strange language. Chichiri flushed in embarrassment.

"I…I'm s-sorry, D-doctor, but I…c-can't s-seem t-to—"

"Hush, Houjun, it's not your fault. It's a post-traumatic shock reaction; there's nothing you can do to control it, except—Here, come with me."

He took the Doctor's hand, but his legs stubbornly refused to obey him. Suddenly he felt himself lifted like a child, and he tried to protest, but the room faded away….

Time passed yet again.

He slowly became aware of the night sky overhead, and soft grass beneath him, protected by a thin silk blanket. Winged shapes whirled above, catching the moonlight in strange owl-eyed patterns, and he squinted to focus on…

Moths. Whirling above him in the moonlight, many as large as his hand and colored dull-brown with bright gold-white spots, while others were pale green and luminescent, and still more fluttered tiny, white and fragile, reflecting the light of the stars. In the distance, he heard the hopeful chirp of crickets, while the air around him was filled with the sweet, dusty scent of butterfly wings.

The butterfly room.

He turned slightly, grateful that his tremors had receded. They were still present but less violent, almost reduced to an occasional involuntary shiver. He turned a bit further, wondering—

"I'm still here."

The velvet voice was right behind him, soft and reassuring, and at last Chichiri let go of his tension and allowed himself to relax for the first time in weeks, months, years…

"You received my message, then," he said sleepily.

He snuggled deeper into the body resting at his back, smiling faintly at the chuckle that rose into the night.

"Yes, Houjun, I received your message."

He could hear the smile in the Doctor's voice and feel the warm weight at his back. A wave of comfort washed over him, carrying him so that he drifted off, just barely registering the time lord's last murmur.

"'Whether I still remembered you,' indeed," he chided softly, and then Ri Houjun knew no more.

******/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

******/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

******Glossary of Japanese Terms**

Gomen nasai – I'm sorry

Itadakimasu – Thank you for the food (an expression of gratitude for food, can be taken either personally or as a blessing)

Ofuda – a piece of paper inscribed with protective spells, usually made by a holy person or priest, used as a charm against evil

Furo - bath; often refers to the traditional Japanese bath in which one washes oneself on a bathing bench, then rinses thoroughly before stepping into a tub of clean water

******/-/-/**

******Disclaimer: **The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

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******Author's notes: **(8-7-05) A-_Ha!_ My devoted "Bridge" fans have been waiting for that disclaimer, I know—but I chose to be evil and post it at the end instead of the beginning. That way, I wouldn't have you guys rushing past the rest of the chapter just to see the Doctor again. :P

For those of you who have no idea of who the Doctor is—don't worry, I'm not going to make you read the entire saga of "Bridge Over the Abyss." Just accept that he is a very, _very_ important mentor to Chichiri, and a close personal friend. The Doctor is a time lord who travels about in a space-time machine known as the TARDIS. He's technically a humanoid alien (half-human, half-Gallifreyan) who came into Chichiri's life approximately 18 months after the Hikou-Kouran disaster at Suzaku's request. The rest of their unique friendship will hopefully be made clear in this story. So there. Necessary background supplied. Of course, if you _want_ to read "Bridge," I won't stop you, either. :P

Now, I know that I had originally promised more Casting Stones, but due to the endless series of complications in my life, you have been given a new chapter of Hidden Paths instead. Yes, it's been a long wait. Yes, sigh, I am always apologizing and making promises that life has a way of breaking for me.

But there's one thing that I'm being totally honest with you about. I have never forgotten ANY of my incomplete fanfics, and month by dogged month, I promise that I will continue to work on each story in the miniscule amount of spare time that my job and personal life allot me. I have no intention of abandoning any of my works, and the greatest thing is that for some reason, the cast of characters from Fushigi Yuugi has never ceased to fascinate me. And oh god, Watase-san's new Genbu crew is totally fantastic!

Okay, one of my other "eternally undone tasks" is to thank all of my reviewers for all of my fics. I'm sorry to say that I'm hopelessly behind, but maybe I can make up for my rudeness by acknowledging all of you here. So, for the reviewers of Chapter 11:

******Fire Senshi **and****** Dragonheart 2**, welcome back! Long time, no see!****** Everqueen, mtgranola, **and****** Poseidon's Chickadee**, welcome aboard! Your kind words give me the drive to keep going. And thanks for the "nagging," PC! Keeps my conscience attuned to how I'm (not) writing!****** Zolac no Miko**—Girl, I have dissed you so badly by not replying to your wonderful and always amusing reviews! Thanks for your excited responses to my twisted plot developments, especially the epilogue of Bridge! ******Nephtyss**—wow! Thanks for tracking me from MediaMiner, and for the VERY comprehensive critiques. I hope to enact some of those changes this week. ******Wingstar/Tenshi**—one of my favorites as usual. Glad that I inspired you to dance! ******Jade Leopard**—I'm so glad to see you again! I thought that my teasing of you after Chapter 6 might have frightened you away. ******LadyLark**—welcome aboard! Another friend from MMdotorg. And thanks so much for the inclusion of White Stones on your C2! Since the admin finally decided to allow M-rated fics on C2's, you're the first to include any of my, er, more adult works. ******Chibi-Kaz**—you keep me honest as usual. I always appreciate your astute input.**Jessica Wolfe**—thanks for being a faithful reviewer. And thanks for the review of The Boat Race, my first Doctor Who-only fanfic. Last but not least—my eternal gratitude to ******Mouse-chan** and ******Ryuen**. You guys rock! (I just hadda say that once in my career!)

Okay, almost done…but I must once more give you a glimpse into the Horrors of Editing Roku! (The last time was after Bridge 18.)

Ryuen was forced to plead with me to reduce the Epic Saga of Gennai's Outdoor Couch. Yes, I've gotten so bad now that even _inanimate objects_ get tragic backstories in my fics. You see, the poor couch was so ugly that it had gone unloved, even though it was a gift from an elderly relative. Consigned to the outdoors, exposed to the elements, the poor unloved couch proved its worth by its amazing sturdiness and comfort. For more angst about the couch's self-image, intimate details on its contribution to the conception of Subaru, and eventual tragic end in the junkman's wagon, please keep an eye out for the side story to Hidden Paths to be called… Hidden Springs: A Couch's Tragic Tale. Rated M for Mature audiences.

Okay, now I'm not the _only_ one to hand out abuse during the beta reading process. Too often do I suffer the slings and arrows of the rapier wit of Purple Mouse. To close this interminable author's note, here's an example of what Mouse-chan wrote, critiquing a simple adjective from the opening description in the Sairou arc.

First of all, my original paragraph:

The workhorses clopped wearily along the streets of the small town that nestled on the borders of the Imperial City. Their iron-shod hooves struck the hard stone paving of the main thoroughfare, generating sparks that flashed briefly before fading in the slanting light. One lone, surly camel loaded with exotic packages paused and lifted its tail, depositing a steaming load of dung before a pile of discarded cargo baskets, then moved on under the crop of its driver.

Now for the Mouse's critique:

_re: steaming dung. Is it hotter inside the camel than it is in Sairou, the desert country? Research has shown me that the camel's normal temperature ranges between 94 and 105 degrees Fahrenheit; depending on the season, it may or may not be hotter in Sairou than it is inside the camel. Research has likewise shown me that the average summer temperatures in cities in arid desert places such as Algeria and Iran are 86 degrees Fahrenheit, possibly hotter; even given this, however, is a twenty-degree difference enough to have steaming dung? okay, okay, I'm just being cheeky, but you're just as picky as I am sometimes. _

Thank you, Mouse-chan, for the long hours spent googling the internal temperature of a camel and the external temperature of desert cities, just so you could really yank my chain about the simple adjective "steaming"! Cheeky is right! But that's what friends are for, ne?

Thanks again everyone—till next time! And may your chosen deity protect you from piles of camel dung, steaming or not!

Ja ne!

Roku


	13. The Power of Three

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters do belong to me (and yes, the dang text as well :P) and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

**Warning: This chapter is rated "M" for sexual references**, mostly due to the unusual nature of the interactions. There are implications of yaoi (male/male), yuri (female/female), and non-standard sexual situations. If you object to any of the above, I advise you to avoid this chapter.

Acknowledgments: Warm thanks to Shunyata Ryuen and Purple Mouse for their usual excellence in beta-reading under pressure—_this_ time in the midst of preparations for my annual Labor Day barbecue. I couldn't've done it without you, ladies. (bows in gratitude)

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**Chapter 13. The Power of Three**

-

******Southern Hokkan**

-

The solid click of stone on wood.

A brief, appreciative exclamation: "Ah."

Soft trickles of murmured conversation.

The light, aromatic fragrance of sake, and the clink of tiny porcelain bowls.

Miaka peered around Tasuki's shoulder, unconsciously breathing lightly and quietly, as if drawing a deep breath would disturb the serenity of the room before them. The late afternoon sunlight gleamed through bamboo latticework, casting ornate patterns of light and shadow across the floor, obscuring the outlines of the figures seated within. Hushed and reverent, the atmosphere seemed more reminiscent of a sacred temple…

…than a _go_ parlor in a small town.

However, dim memories of her grandfather's passion for the game reminded her that _go_, or _wei ch'i_ as the locals called it, _was_ a religion to many of those who played it, a chance to reflect and meditate on art and form while executing a warlike strategy. _Go_ players did not appreciate interruptions, so Miaka tried to quell her impatience, difficult as it was when they needed information so desperately.

The gods must have been with them, however, for at that moment, the clatter of pebbles pouring into wooden bowls signaled an end to one of the matches. Two middle-aged men rose from a table, accompanied by two of their friends who had been watching and commenting softly throughout. They stopped when they saw Tasuki blocking the doorway.

He moved to one side with a polite bow. "_Sumimasen_…but I was told that someone here could tell me of the Genbu seishi. Would you happen to know—?"

"Ask them," replied the shorter of the two go players as he jerked a chin at another table, then suddenly smirked. "If you dare."

He let out a loud guffaw, his fellows joining in as they left the parlor.

Miaka looked at the two older men seated at the remaining table, still apparently absorbed in their game. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the variegated light, she noticed that they were the last players left in the parlor. Although the previous commotion should have interrupted their concentration, they hadn't even bothered to look up…and didn't seem inclined to do so anytime in the near future. Tasuki had obviously come to the same conclusion, for he shrugged impatiently, then approached the first man, a stocky, broad-shouldered man of about sixty, with a thin fringe of auburn hair around his bald pate and a craggy but good-humored face.

"Excuse me, but—"

The man held up a finger, and Tasuki fell silent. The second man shot him a shrewd glance from beneath heavy black eyebrows. He appeared to be the same age as his partner, but there the resemblance ended. This man was strikingly handsome, with a thick head of grey hair streaked with black and a trim salt-and-pepper beard.

Miaka's thoughts were interrupted by the decisive tap of a white clamshell stone being placed on the board.

"Hmph!" The handsome man leaned forward and studied his opponent's move. "You show little imagination as usual, Daichi-san." His voice was rich and deep, tinged with the rhythmic accent of the north.

"And yet I hold more territory than you," replied the stocky man easily, his comment devoid of malice. "Perhaps imagination is somewhat over-rated."

"Never, in _wei ch'i._ Artistry is everything. So you seek the Genbu seishi, do you?" He uttered the last statement without taking his eyes off the board.

"Yes."

"Ah, brief and to the point; a novel and refreshing trait in the young." Daichi leaned back, waiting patiently for his opponent's next move. "But why seek out those feeble ones? They would hardly be of use to anyone."

The handsome man snorted. "Unless you have a particular interest in watching some old _ji-ji_ dodder towards the grave."

Tasuki tensed slightly. "I'd expected the people of Hokkan to have learned respect for their sovereign warriors over the years."

The two men burst into loud guffaws. For some reason, their laughter seemed to hold genuine amusement instead of mockery.

"Had you now?" gasped Daichi, wiping tears from his eyes. "Did you hear that, Kigan-san? Respect for those arthritic old goats, as if Hokkan needed them at all! Hasn't the country been safe and secure for the past two hundred years?"

Miaka couldn't help bristling at their mockery of the elderly seishi. She glanced at Tasuki, expecting him to blast them with his infamous temper at any moment—but was surprised to see him gazing at them with eyes narrowed in thought.

Kigan regained control first. "Now, now, Daichi-san, there's no need to slander Uruki and Inami; they manage to get around without much difficulty. But that Namame—_there's_ an old goat if ever I saw one!"

That sent them off into another paroxysm of laughter, until—

"So you know the seishi, then. You can take us to them."

Kigan cocked a bushy eyebrow at the note of command in Tasuki's voice. "Whether I know them or not, what makes you think that I'd obey such a command? You might have some malicious purpose in mind."

"I thought you said that the seishi were useless. If you really believe that, then what difference does it make what my motives might be?"

Daichi grinned at Tasuki's retort. "He has a point there, Kigan. What difference, indeed?"

Kigan leaned toward the board, frowning as he studied it. "True…except that he's old enough to know that one seldom gets something for nothing." His piercing blue eyes met Tasuki's. "Let's barter for my services. Make an advantageous move, and I'll tell you where to find the Genbu seishi. Make that move artistic—and I'll lead you there myself."

"Agreed. But I need a little time to look over the game."

Miaka shifted her feet anxiously, watching as Tasuki carefully studied the busy patterns of black and white stones set on adjacent intersecting lines. Less than five minutes later, he reached into the bowl in front of Kigan, and dug out a black slate pebble. Holding it between the tips of his index and middle fingers, he paused one moment…before setting the stone down with a firm click.

The two players leaned over the board, eagerly surveying the effects of his move. Suddenly Daichi let out a cry of triumph.

"You've chosen a rank amateur to make your move for you, Kigan—because now there's no possible way that you can win!"

"Quiet!" growled Kigan, running through the various strategies in his head. The color rose in his face, and he fixed a furious glare on Tasuki. "Daichi is right: no matter what I do, I can't win this match! How can you call that an advantageous move? If you didn't know how to play the game, you should have--!"

"I know how to play." Tasuki's voice was uncharacteristically mild. "But if I made a competent move for you, the match would've gone on for the next two hours. This move finished your chances—and the game—and so was advantageous…for me."

"Hah!" Daichi rocked back and forth in amusement. "He's right, Kigan; you failed to specify that the move was to be for _your_ benefit! And by the way, the execution of that move was highly artistic, so now you have to get off your ass and act as their guide."

"Fine." Kigan made a show of rising painfully from his seat as Daichi sorted the pebbles into their bowls. "Make an old man do your work for you." The pitiful whine was a complete failure when uttered in those rich, rolling tones. "But at least tell me how a youngster like you learned to play _wei ch'i_ like an enlightened monk."

"Long winter nights spent playing _wei ch'i_…with an enlightened monk."

Kigan laughed out loud, his white teeth gleaming in his sun-browned face. "Well said—and well done, er…what is your name again?"

"Genrou, and this is my brother Mikirou."

The intense blue gaze was directed onto Miaka, who tried to keep from squirming nervously. She still wore her nomadic deel, but had left off the fur lining due to the warmer temperatures in South Hokkan. Now she half-wished she still had the lining, for Kigan's penetrating gaze seemed to look straight through her.

Suddenly he flashed her a charming smile. "A fine young man, to be sure." He indicated the door. "After you."

"No." Tasuki bowed deeply and respectfully. "After _you,_ Genbu no Seishi Namame."

Daichi laughed but kept his hand near his sword belt. "He's found you out, Kigan! I guess we weren't mysterious enough for him."

Tasuki bowed slightly in acknowledgment. "There are very few men who dare to insult a shichiseishi, no matter how old that seishi might be…and even fewer whose names mean 'unusual rock formation'. Legend has it that Genbu no Namame has the power to manipulate rocks and earth."

Miaka couldn't help staring at Namame. Tasuki had told her that the surviving Genbu warriors were over eighty years old, but this man looked barely sixty! Namame caught her eye and winked, before turning back to Tasuki.

"So how does one as young as you learn the legends of Genbu? Ah, that's right. The enlightened monk, I assume."

"Would you like me to come along, Kigan?" There was a gleam of mistrust in Daichi's eyes.

"No need, old friend. I'm certain that I'll be safe in the presence of those who carry the scent of the Firebird." He smiled at the sudden look of consternation that crossed Tasuki's face. "Don't look so crestfallen, boy. Your _ki_ shields are fine; I was merely told to expect you by one who guards both our interests. No, I'm not going to elaborate on that." He glanced at the angle of the sun through the windows. "I'm late enough as it is."

Daichi followed them out of the _go_ parlor. "Are you sure that you don't need my help? I don't mean against these boys; I'm referring to what awaits you at home." He leaned over and whispered to Miaka. "The only thing that Genbu no Namame fears is Genbu no Inami."

"Fear Inami? Don't be ridiculous, Daichi; the woman is hopelessly in love with me and is the light of my life. Well, one of them, anyway." He grinned at Tasuki and Miaka. "Besides, I'm counting on these two to save my hide."

/-/-/-/

As they rode, Miaka took advantage of her position behind Tasuki to study Namame, who was leading the way on his bay mare. He seemed trustworthy enough, but she couldn't shake a vague feeling of disquiet. For some reason, she felt as if he were about to turn around and encase her in a thick coating of ice, stealing the breath from her lungs and the heat from her body, and filling her with a weariness so bone-deep that she could only vaguely hear Tasuki and the others scream in frustration behind her. Her vision faded on a last image of the Genbu warrior standing tall and transparent, his silver hair falling over his eyepatch, as a voice whispered tenderly in her ear, _'Don't ever lose, Miaka'_…

She startled and jerked upright, embarrassed at falling asleep—because she _had_ dozed off, hadn't she? Those strange images _must_ have been dream-induced; for one thing, the Genbu warrior in her vision looked nothing like Namame. For another, Tasuki had automatically reached his hand back to steady her, as was his habit when she grew so tired that she would fall asleep on Makaze's back. She had done that more than once on their frenetic journey of the past few days; first to the north, to the shattered ruins of Mount Gyokuei, then reversing direction to the south, riding as frantically as if the nightmare creatures were breathing down their necks…

…which, in a way, they were. The danger from the beasts was tangible, immediate—and Miaka couldn't help wondering how she and Tasuki would be able to defend themselves from creatures capable of destroying an entire mountain to get at the people hidden within. Memory took her back, unwilling, to that place of snow-covered boulders and obscenely raw earth, to the moment when the desperate hope had faded in Tasuki's eyes, and was replaced by something much colder and lonelier than fear.

-

_He digs frantically through the rubble, pulling something free, something that twists and ripples in the wind—a blue hair ribbon? She catches only a glimpse of blue silk before he sinks to his knees and clutches it to his heart, head bowed and shoulders shaking._

_Her throat tightens as she stands frozen in place, feeling inadequate, intrusive. What can she say or do in the face of his overwhelming grief? What words can she offer that won't sound trite or stupid…or worse yet, condescending, as she pretends to understand the depth of his pain? _

_But suddenly the world shifts around her, and she _does_ understand, remembering how it feels to have a hole torn in your chest, a hole that pours smoke and flame and blackened bits of twisted metal—and her mind shrieks in horror and loss, until a wash of white static buries the knowledge beneath a blanket of snow._

_She gasps for air as if she has just surfaced from the waters of a dark lake, dimly grateful that the wind has torn away the sound of her anguish. She doesn't want to drag him from his own grief, and more than that, she doesn't want him to ask her what's wrong, to probe her memories with his piercing amber gaze._

_She doesn't _want_ to remember. _

_Yet all the same, something has changed inside her, so that she now has the confidence—or is it empathy?—to approach him and gently lay a fur-clad hand on his shoulder. He turns his face only slightly, acknowledging her presence, and she waits patiently until he can find his voice._

_"The Refuge…" His voice is husky, ragged with suppressed emotion. "Everything…everyone is gone."_

_For once, she doesn't say something stupid. For once, her words are wise, acknowledging their only choice._

_"We have to keep moving."_

-

"Not far now!"

Namame's friendly call jolted her out of her reverie. Makaze snorted, and she patted his hindquarters, silently apologizing for jumping around on his back. She knew that he was weary, although he gamely kept pace with Namame's mare as they climbed the winding mountain path. Miaka wondered what had inspired the Genbu seishi to make their home so far removed from the rest of the town…until they rounded the last curve.

A wide, steep meadow opened out before them, filled with blooming wildflowers, while above them stood an elegant house, nestled against the mountainside and fronted by a veranda of shining wood. A tangle of wild rosebushes covered the hillside, fragrant pink blossoms just making their first spring appearance. The flowers grew above and around the house, giving it the appearance of an enchanted domicile sequestered within a rose arbor.

"It's beautiful!" gasped Miaka, while Tasuki nodded his approval.

"A single man armed with a crossbow could defend this entire area without leaving the veranda," he remarked. "And you're protected at the back by the mountain, and at the sides by the rose thorns."

Namame smiled, indicating the breathtaking vista of the town spread out below them. "I thought that a fellow warrior would appreciate the location. As you can see, very little happens in the town without us knowing about it first."

A movement in the side yard caught his eye. "Ah. Let me show you the real treasures of my home."

He spurred his horse forward a short way, then dismounted in the meadow, holding a finger to his lips. Tasuki and Miaka dismounted quietly and followed him, leaving Makaze to graze on the abundant greenery. A series of muffled thuds reached their ears as they crept around the corner of the veranda and looked into the yard.

A carpet hung from a line strung between two trees, and a woman stood beating the dust from it with a bamboo whisk broom. She wore a colorful kerchief to protect her hair, and although she had her back to them, Miaka could see that she had a lush figure in a perfect hourglass shape, hips spreading wide beneath a ruffled skirt.

Namame crept up behind her and put his arms around her waist.

_"Cornuto!"_ she hissed, jabbing her elbows back and making him grunt in pain. "Bastard! Running off to town and leaving all the work to me and Uruki! _Fa schifo!"_

"_Tesoro mio,"_ Namame purred seductively. "My little treasure, you know that I can never leave you for long. But matters of importance called me to town."

"Matters of importance! No doubt concerning that _babbuini_ Daichi and a flask of sake—and a roomful of old men playing stupid board games!"

"_Dolcezza mia,_ you wound me. And here I've brought back some important guests who are anxious to meet you."

At that, she wrenched out of his embrace and spun around—and Miaka caught her breath at the woman's beauty.

She was tall, perhaps 5'8, with high cheekbones, large, tilted eyes and a full, sensuous mouth. As she pulled off her headscarf, a lush cascade of brown, wavy hair slightly streaked with gray tumbled over her breasts. She had the exotic look of a gypsy queen—and she looked even younger than Namame, perhaps a well-preserved fifty.

Those incredible eyes softened and shone as she looked at Tasuki and Miaka. "Ah, my poor _bambini,"_ she cooed, and her voice was honey-rich. "So dusty and tired. Let Inami prepare a room so that you can rest."

She approached Tasuki and shot him a flirtatious glance. "Although this one is no _bambino_—a man for many years now, I see."

Namame grinned. "Have mercy on him, Inami; he's young enough to be your grandson."

Tasuki took her proferred hand and kissed it. "True…but Lady Inami appears barely old enough to be my sister."

Inami laughed in delight. "You see? Here is a man who knows how to treat a woman! You should take heed, Namame!"

"I would be jealous, except that I know that your heart belongs to me. You adore me and you know it, so flirt all you want, my love."

_"Cretino!"_ she replied briefly but with little anger. "Tell me who these lovely children are."

"They are posing as brothers named Genrou and Mikirou…but I feel that I'm correct in introducing them as Suzaku no Seishi Tasuki and the Priestess of Suzaku."

"Priestess!" Inami rushed forward and took Miaka's face in her hands. "Ah, _che bella ragazza! Una cosa preziosa, _poor baby, to be chasing around the countryside dressed as a boy! Here, I will make you something to eat, little one; you are far too thin."

"There you go again, Inami, in your endless quest to fatten the world. It's a miracle that Namame and I aren't rolling around like overstuffed pigs."

The voice was smooth and husky, and Miaka looked up to see a woman leaning on the veranda rail, observing them. She was a few inches taller than Inami, and clad in masculine clothes that hung loosely on her slender form. Her ageless features, though far different from the other woman's, were just as attractive, with eyes of clearest jade set in a face of striking bone structure. She had a strong jawline and chin that lent her an androgynous beauty, while her chestnut hair was cropped short near her neck except for one long ponytail bound in ribbon that fell nearly to her waist.

"Ah, Uruki, your timing is perfect as usual. Let me introduce you to my friends, Tasuki of Suzaku and, er…" Namame trailed off, giving Miaka a chance to introduce herself, but her mind was elsewhere.

"Each of you is even more beautiful than the last!" she said impulsively, then blushed at her outburst.

Uruki smiled and moved down the steps to join them, while Inami crowed in triumph behind her.

"You see, Namame? She says that you are the ugly one!"

Miaka was mortified. "Uh, I didn't mean…um, I meant that—"

"Pay no attention to them." Uruki was suddenly right in front of her, lifting her chin with a long, elegant finger. "Their day is not complete unless they have at least fifty quarrels, so don't let them upset you." Her eyes burned into Miaka's with masculine intensity. "And your name is?"

"Yuuki Miaka." Her reply was breathless for some unknown reason.

"Miaka…a lovely name for a lovely girl. Fitting, for our priestess."

Miaka blushed deeply, not understanding why this woman held her mesmerized, but suddenly Tasuki was standing right beside her.

"She's the Priestess of Suzaku, not Genbu." His voice was neutral, but some sort of challenge seemed to be going on between him and the Genbu woman.

"Yet she's the only priestess we have left in our world. Surely she deserves the protection of shichiseishi everywhere, regardless of their patron god." She released Miaka with a show of reluctance but a twinkle in her eyes, before turning to Tasuki. "You know me, Suzaku no Tasuki?"

Tasuki gave a slight bow. "We've never met, but I've heard of you, Genbu no Uruki. Your abilities are…legendary."

"You flatter me," she murmured, an ironic smile gracing her lips.

Tasuki suddenly staggered under the force of a clap on the back fron Namame. "Now, don't get your knickers in a knot, youngster. Uruki's an even bigger flirt than Inami—how else do you think she got both of us?"

"Both of you?" stammered Miaka before she could stop herself.

"Yes, I'm the most fortunate of men, to have the heartfelt devotion of two such extraordinary women." Namame looped his arms around the waists of both women. "Uruki the Fearless, beloved by men and women alike, and Inami the Savage, who stormed into my life from a small tribe of nomadic people who originated from the South."

"The South?" Miaka's curiosity was piqued. "Do you mean Konan?"

"No—nowhere in the ShiJin, I'm afraid. We speak a more civilized language than the one Inami grew up with. Although she _has_ taught me some of the rudiments of her mother tongue…among other things."

_"Sei di tek!"_ spat Inami, hitting him. "Has the sun cooked your brain, that you would bring up such things in front of a child?"

"She's bound to find out anyway, _micio,_ when you both move into my bedroom tonight." He grinned at Tasuki, not at all apologetic.

"Both of us?" Uruki asked, amused.

"Keh!" exclaimed Inami. "What makes you think that you get us both tonight? Is it your birthday? Is it the New Year?"

"No, my loves, but we only have three bedrooms. You can't possibly ask the Priestess to share a bedroom with her warrior."

Miaka opened her mouth to protest that she and Tasuki had been sharing sleeping quarters for a long time now, but stopped when she felt a subtle pressure on her foot.

"We thank you for your hospitality, Genbu no Seishi." Tasuki's tone was unfailingly polite. "And we regret any sacrifices that you make on our behalf."

Namame laughed out loud at Tasuki's irony, then turned to lead them into the house. Uruki strode past Miaka to join him, and she caught a low murmur as the Genbu woman spoke in Namame's ear.

"I'll agree to this, but don't imagine for one moment that you're going to be _seme_ tonight."

Namame laughed again as they entered the cool, dark interior of the house.

/-/-/-/

A loud thunk resounded from the other side of the wall, followed by a burst of muffled laughter.

Miaka sighed, turning over in her bed. She wasn't certain what she had expected from the Genbu seishi, but she definitely hadn't expected this. They seemed to have much more energy and enthusiasm than…well, than was decent in people of their age. One might have expected that after eighty years, the novelty of sex would've worn out for them, but apparently they thought otherwise.

There was a sudden shout, then a hissed spate of words in Inami's language, followed by another eruption of masculine laughter.

Miaka frowned. Why did it sound as if there were two men in the next room instead of one? She shook her head, impatient with herself for even thinking about what was going on next door. The problem was that she couldn't seem to _stop_ thinking about it; the faintly audible erotic moans inspiring equally erotic images in her mind…except that it wasn't the Genbu warriors in her thoughts, but rather her and Tas—

"Stop it!" she hissed to herself. Enough was enough. She was going to end up making a fool of herself with Tasuki if she didn't get up and walk off whatever lewd fantasies had taken possession of her brain. Rolling out of bed, she pulled her trousers on beneath her sleep kimono. She briefly considered pulling on a shirt or maybe her gauze for binding her breasts, but decided against it. It wasn't as if she were going out to pay social calls, and the odds of running into their hosts were slim-to-none, considering how occupied those hosts were at the moment. Besides, it felt good to have her breasts free of restraint for almost the first time since they'd begun their journey.

Wandering down the hall towards the veranda, she absently scratched at her unruly curls, enjoying the lightness and freedom of short hair. It was far different from the tight feeling of the Chinese-style rolls she used to wear on the sides of her head. _Odangos,_ Tasuki had called them, teasing her in his usual way—'_Dumpling Head.'_

She paused. The memories were coming back to her more frequently than before. There was no point in jumping in surprise each time she regained another one; yet it distracted her enough so that she'd walked across the veranda and halfway down the steps before she tripped over something and went flying headfirst towards the darkness…

…and was caught at the last moment in a strong grip.

"Steady there, Miki. Ya better sit down before you break somethin', like your head or my leg."

She drew in a shaky breath, sitting down on the steps of the veranda. "How did you know it was me? It's so dark out that I can barely see my hand in front of my face."

"Who else stomps me on a regular basis? Besides, everybody else is…busy."

She laughed uncertainly. "So you heard them, too?"

"Hafta be deaf not to. They got a kinda noisy way to have fun."

Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and she could make out his form sprawled comfortably across the steps beside her. He had left off his headscarf and wore the loose white shirt and trousers that he habitually slept in. Miaka was glad to see him looking so relaxed, and glad for the return of his bandit accent as well. Ever since Mount Gyokuei, he had unnerved her with his brooding silences and careful, accentless words, his demeanor as cautious and controlled as that of a man crossing a frozen lake, uncertain of the thickness of the ice beneath his feet.

Now that they were safe among friends, he had let down his guard, and she realized how much she had missed his offhand confidence and teasing ways.

"So don't you find it strange the way that they, um, have fun?"

It wasn't a subject she would've chosen to expound on, but she wanted to keep him talking and to hear the cheerful good humor in his voice.

"Strange, 'cause there's three of them instead of two?"

"Well, yes, but not only that. I mean that…well, they're so _old;_ even older than they look. Doesn't it seem a little…squicky to you?"

"Squicky?"

"Um, I meant weird…in a yuck sort of way."

"Yuck? I thought you liked the way they look. You even called 'em beautiful."

"I did—they are. I wasn't talking about physical appearances; I was talking about…age. And what they're doing in there."

Tasuki laughed. "So you think that sex over age forty is, er, squicky?"

Miaka thought about her discomfort when her mother started dating men after the divorce. "Wellll…yeah. Don't you?"

"I used to. 'Course, now that forty's only thirteen years away for me, I ain't so quick ta judge. But it was a few years back when my mind really got changed."

Miaka hesitated, not really wanting to know the answer but unable to resist asking. "Was it…someone you met?"

Fangs gleamed in the faint light. "Yeah, but not in the way you're thinkin'. I didn't get shown the ropes by some mama-san or anythin' like that. It happened when I was travelin' with 'Chir…a friend. We were staying with the Kel—the nomadic people of Sairou that I talked about before. Anyway, there was this tribal chieftain, hadda be over sixty if he was a day, who'd just lost his wife the year before, and found a young, pretty thing ta take her place. Anyway, he and his new wife were in the infatuation stage when we arrived, an'…well, let's just say that they were every bit as enthusiastic as those guys in there. Except we had tents instead'a solid walls."

Tasuki leaned further back, grinning up at the diamond-studded sky. "The thing was, I was my usual pain-in-th'-ass self, even worse back then. Ya know, a typical know-it-all twenty-year-old, figurin' that I had the world by the tail. One night, I was sittin' by the bonfire, an' I made some smartass remark about whether the old guy was capable of satisfying a young woman like that—and _he_ happened ta overhear me.

"The next thing I knew, this curved scimitar was slashing out of the sky an' it landed right _here."_ Tasuki pointed down between his legs. "Just an inch away from making me inta a girl, if ya know what I mean. Anyway, I'm sittin' there white as a sheet, not darin' ta move or even exhale, 'cause that sword edge was close enough ta fray the threads of my trousers. Then the chief leans over me, resting his arm on the hilt real casual-like, smilin' like we were th' best of friends, while I kept my eyes on that blade, praying that he wouldn't tip it towards me, accidentally or not."

Miaka's eyes were wide, and Tasuki laughed at her expression of horror. "Nah, don't worry, Mi-chan; I ain't tellin' ya some tragic tale about losin' my two closest friends. That sword was jus' the chief's way of makin' sure that he had my complete attention—which, believe me, he did. So this is what he said ta me."

Tasuki lowered his pitch and assumed a deep, musical accent. "Young brother, if I had practiced with this sword for the past forty years, and you had picked it up for the first time last year, why would you assume that you had the greater mastery of the weapon? Here is the eternal mistake of youth. The young believe that they are the first to have invented sex—and fail to see the obvious truth that they have been invented _by _sex."

Miaka let out a peal of laughter. "All right, I admit it! I guess I've been less open-minded than I thought. I promise to stop thinking of 'sex over forty' as squicky. Although the threesome part still amazes me—not that I'm making any more judgments!" she added quickly, not wanting to appear like a prude again. "It's just that…well, Inami-san doesn't seem like the type of woman to share her man with another woman."

"I assume that usually she doesn't hafta."

"Maybe not _usually_, but I'm talking about tonight. Or whenever they…you know, all three…"

"That's what I was talkin' about, too. I get the feelin' that Lady Inami manages ta be the center of attention, even tonight."

Miaka's eyes grew wide again. "Do you mean that Uruki-san is a lesbian?"

"Lez-bean? What's that?"

"A woman who desires…other women."

"Oh." Tasuki chewed his lip. "Well, I don't know if that's exactly how I'd describe Uruki. That seishi's kinda hard ta…categorize. By reputation, at least."

"So what do you mean? A bisexual?" She answered his questioning gaze. "A woman who desires both men and women?"

"Hmm. That's a little closer, but you're still not gettin' my drift. Don't worry; you'll probably find out what I'm talkin' about sometime soon."

She leaned back on her elbows, mimicking Tasuki's relaxed posture. "So you're not going to explain it to me?"

"Nope."

"Because you like to hold it over my head that you know more than I do."

"Yep. Plus I get to watch you make that monkey-face, where you stick out yer bottom lip an' pout."

"Shut up!" She scowled at him, trying not to laugh. "I do not make monkey faces!"

"Uh-huh. Someday I'm gonna pull out a mirror when you're in the middle of a sulk, and shock the shit outta you." He raised his voice in a falsetto. "Help me, Tasuki! Monkeys! Monkeys are attacking!"

"Shut UP!" She tried to punch him but fell against him instead, dissolving helplessly into giggles. "I don't know why I like you so much, when you're so mean to me!"

"So you like me…huh." His voice had changed, turning husky and hesitant.

She realized that she was leaning into him, her hands grasping his shirt. Tilting her face up, she met his gaze, his eyes faintly glowing with reflected starlight. Somehow his arms had gone around her, and she could feel the warmth of his hands through the thin silk of her sleep kimono. He held her lightly, neither pressing her close nor letting her go.

The pulse beat rapidly in her throat as he moved closer, filling her vision and all of her senses.

Amber and starlight. The scent of sandalwood and sun-warmed skin. Soft puffs of breath, now growing slightly ragged. The silk-muffled heat of his hands.

She parted her lips, her anticipation needle-sharp and sweet. This is it, she thought, her heart hammering in her chest. Once he kissed her, everything would change. Once he kissed her, she would be—

_Unfaithful._

The thought stabbed into her from out of nowhere, making her startle and flinch. Just like that, his hands were gone, and she found herself leaning back against the veranda steps, stars blurring in her vision. She blinked, and the stars came back into focus—her unobstructed view of the stars.

Still confused, she turned her eyes to him. He was lounging against the steps in the exact same position as before, his face tilted up towards the sky, as if he had been waiting patiently for her answer all this time.

Had she just imagined that strange interlude? Was it only in her mind that he'd held her in his arms, leaned in close, brought his face close to hers? But then she noticed his hand clenched into a fist, the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

No, it wasn't her imagination. And she had hurt him yet again, this time with that insane thought, her inexplicable flinching away from him. What was _wrong_ with her?

She placed a hand on his arm, making him look down at her. "I do like you, Tasuki. A lot. And I don't know why I—"

"That's good, 'cause I like ya too, and it's easier ta be friends if ya like each other." He spoke rapidly, cutting her off. "An' right now, we need all the friends we can get, 'cause we got a hard road ahead of us."

Miaka swallowed, suddenly understanding that he would rather talk about the devastating loss of the Refuge than what had just occurred between them.

All right then.

"A hard road?"

"As hard as I've ever seen in my life, Miki, an' that's sayin' a lot. We got no central power guidin' us the way Taiitsukun used to, an' I can only hope that the Four Gods are still around. I dunno how ta find that out, though, since they only used ta communicate with us through the Old Babaa, I mean Taiitsukun. I'd been hopin' that somehow she'd been in touch with these Genbu seishi, but they really ain't heard from her since before…the attack."

Her mind went back to the conversation around the dinner table, a table so heavily laden with Inami's dishes that even Miaka had to finally refuse yet another helping.

-

"Per favore, ni-ni-niente di p-piu." _She stumbled over the strange words as Inami hovered above her with another ladle of noodles, grateful to Uruki for the quick, whispered lesson just before they had been served._ "Grazie," _she added as an afterthought. _

"Ah, questa ragazza intelligente!"_ Inami crowed. "This is an intelligent girl, to learn the_ linguaggio poetico _so quickly. Are you certain that you don't want any more noodles,_ dolcezza mia?"

"Non, grazie."

_Inami took her seat at last, obviously pleased and flattered by Miaka's fledgling linguistic efforts—and by her earlier appetite. The men leaned back in their chairs, having been defeated by the sheer volume of food long before Miaka had thrown in her chopsticks. Namame smiled at her in appreciation, while Uruki gave her a wink._

_"So how did you know we were coming?" Tasuki went directly to the point._

_Namame looked up over the rim of his cup. "Taiitsukun sent us a message telling us to be on the watch for you."_

_"Taiitsukun? When?" Tasuki sat up in his chair eagerly._

_Namame shook his head. "Over three weeks ago, I'm afraid. Since then—nothing."_

_"A strange night, that night," Inami piped up. "I was asleep in my bed, then Boom!_ Une conflagrazione di stelli!"

_"An explosion of stars," Uruki translated. "I felt it as well; we all did."_

_Miaka turned a startled glance towards Tasuki, remembering how he had cried out in his sleep the second night of their journey. He returned her gaze, his own dark with understanding._

_"The attack on the Refuge; that must have been what we felt."_

_Uruki nodded grimly. "We had heard rumors of the destruction of Mount Gyokuei, but you're the first to confirm it as fact. So the entire mountain has been demolished?"_

_"Everything."_

_Namame sighed. "We feared the worst. The next morning, I found this little origami bird on our doorstep." He handed a folded piece of paper to Tasuki. "It's the message from Taiitsukun telling of the attack on you and the Priestess and your warrior priest, but nothing more. We tried to send it back with more questions about the 'star explosions' in our minds, but it returned to us after less than a day with no new information."_

_Tasuki held the paper close to his nose. "Chichiri," he breathed._

_"Your sorcerer-priest?" asked Uruki. "Was he at the Refuge when it was attacked?"_

_"I don't know." Tasuki's words were heavy with uncertainty and grief._

_Namame stood up, his expression dark. "Let's hope he didn't make it back there…because right now, all that we have left is you two and whatever seishi were out in the field at the time of the attack._

_"As far as we know—we're all that's left."_

-

Miaka looked towards Tasuki. "We're all that's left," she repeated softly.

"Maybe; maybe not. We can't give up hope. We just…we can't."

"So our next move is?"

"I don't know." Tasuki leaned back against the steps again, and she suddenly saw the weariness he had hidden for so long. "I'll think of somethin', but for right now, I just want ta take a day or so ta rest. These guys mighta sounded weak an' fragile from the way that Taiitsukun talked about them, but I ain't sure she's looked in on 'em much over th' past few years. I gotta tell ya, I'm pretty impressed by how strong they are. I trust them ta look after us for awhile."

"Yes, I do too." She impulsively reached out and placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat strong and sure under her fingers. "You should rest now. I know that this has been hard on you—"

"Life's hard." His voice sounded a little breathless, his heartbeat quickening under her touch. "Losin' people you care about is the hardest part of it…but ya can't give up. Ever. I'm not givin' up, Miki; I want ya ta know that."

Suddenly he caught her hand and rose to his feet, pulling her up to join him, and before she even knew what was happening, his hands were at her waist, loosening her belt. Her eyes went wide as she felt his fingers gently trace the edge of one lapel of her kimono, then the other. He held onto both lapels for one moment…then pulled them so that they rested snugly over each other. Tracing his hands back down to her waist, he retied her belt.

"There, that's better." His voice was husky again. "You'll be warmer now. Get ta bed; it's gettin' cold out here."

Her throat was too dry to answer, so she nodded and smiled uncertainly, backing away until she tripped over the threshold. Regaining her footing, she stumbled towards her room, looking back over her shoulder to see him standing, shadowed and enigmatic, beyond the door.

/-/-/-/

_What was that all about? What did he mean…what happened—? _

The thoughts chased around her head until she grew dizzy. The Genbu trio had finally quieted, perhaps dropping off from exhaustion, but sleep remained out of reach for her as her thoughts turned to the earlier incident.

_Why did I flinch away from him? How could I be so stupid? Unfaithful—where did that thought come from? Unfaithful how? Unfaithful to whom?_

She closed her eyes as she tried to recall images from high school and college: boys she might have liked, someone special? No, there was no one there but her and Yui, then Keisuke running up, telling them they had to hide as a malignant, triangular head rose above him, and the world exploded in violent scarlet and orange flames—

She jerked awake, gasping, entangled in her sheets. The greyish light of dawn seeped in through the latticed window of her room, and she realized that she had managed to fall asleep despite the confused thoughts that plagued her even now.

Rolling out of bed, she fastened her kimono closed, pausing as she imagined the warmth of his fingers against her skin. A faint clatter from down the hall roused her from her reverie, and she headed towards the kitchen, determined to ask Tasuki what exactly—

She crossed the threshold of the kitchen and stopped short, so shocked that she never felt the door swing shut against her back.

A strange man stood before her, holding the teapot and looking at her as calmly as if he owned the place. He was tall and elegant, and his ageless features held a compelling masculine beauty. His sleep kimono was rumpled, opening over a firm, muscled chest, but further down, his legs were bare, suggesting that he wore nothing else.

He followed the direction of her gaze and smiled, his jade eyes dancing with amusement.

"Ohayo, Miaka."

"Eh…ih?" she managed to squeak out unintelligibly.

"Of course I know your name," he answered her garbled question. "We met only yesterday."

Finally she took in his chestnut hair, cropped short at the neck but with a long, tangled ponytail reaching almost to his waist—and the kanji for "woman" glowing faint green on his chest.

"Uruki-san?"

"That's right."

"But you're a man."

"Some of the time. Other times, I'm a woman."

"Oh, I get it." She met his quizzical gaze, and blushed. "No—no, I don't. I'm sorry; I don't mean to be rude."

"Don't worry about it. Very few people can understand it…and I'm fortunate enough to be married to two of them."

"You're married to both Inami _and_ Namame?"

Out of nowhere, she remembered the _'seme'_ remark that she had overheard yesterday between Uruki and Namame, and suddenly it all made sense. Too much sense. She flushed brilliant red at the mental picture, only dimly registering Uruki's reply.

"Yes; I'm doubly fortunate in that Namame is much more open-minded than he appears. Oh, I don't deny that at the beginning, there were some adjustments we all had to make—but I'm sure you don't need to know about that. Here," he handed her a cup, "have some tea. Your mouth must be getting dry from hanging open like that."

She blushed even deeper, accepting the cup from his hand. "I'm sorry. I must seem awfully stupid to you."

"Not at all." He set the teapot down and lifted her chin between his fingers, studying her face, his own eyes slightly clouded with memory. "You must forgive an old man's teasing. It's just that you remind me of…of…" He shook his head. "You carry the scent of your world, do you know that? And for some reason, it brings a name to my mind. Taki…Taki…" He fell silent, confused.

"Okuda Takiko," she blurted out suddenly.

"Yes, that's it! But who is she? Why do I feel _things_…echoes…of another life?"

Miaka swallowed hard. His words had brought that name to her lips, but something blocked the rest of the memory. Not only the gaps in her past, but also a dim, urgent feeling within her that she shouldn't say anything more.

"I'm sorry, Uruki-san. I don't know if Tasuki told you, but I, too, have gaps in my memory. I never meant to insult you by refusing—"

"Hush, child, you've done nothing wrong. I understand about your memories, and as for mine…as I said, they're probably echoes of another life; one that's dead and gone." His eyes softened as he looked down into her face, and she was held mesmerized by him once again. "_Una bella ragazza,_ indeed; a very pretty girl, and kind as well."

Her heart beat quicker under his gaze, and suddenly it was so clear how this man-woman could capture the most reluctant of hearts. If she could feel the force of his charisma this strongly now, how irresistible must he have been in his prime?

He flashed a grin as if he could read her thoughts, and gently released her chin.

"Help yourself, _cara mia,_ to anything in the kitchen." Picking two cups of tea, he left the room, Miaka unconsciously following him to the hallway. She watched as he paused before his bedroom door. "Er…I'll see you later, Miaka. I think we're sleeping in this morning."

The words were barely out of his mouth when the door opened, and a slender feminine hand caught hold of his kimono, drawing him back into the room. Soft laughter erupted before being cut off by the click of the closing door.

Miaka retreated back into the kitchen, surprised to find herself smiling fondly. Somehow her embarrassment had evaporated along with her close-minded judgment, and now the Genbu threesome appeared as natural and delightful as any long-married couple. After all, they all obviously loved one another, and what else mattered?

"Uruki! Inami!"

Miaka jumped, startled to hear Namame shout from outside. She raced out to the veranda to find Tasuki and Namame looking out over the meadow below. From behind her, she heard the slam of the bedroom door and the scramble of footsteps as Inami and Uruki joined them, still tying their belts.

Tasuki pointed at a puff of dust rising from the winding road that led to the house.

"Someone's coming."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Glossary of Terms: (in order of appearance in chapter)**

-

Sumimasen – (Japanese) Excuse me

Ji-ji – (Japanese) Old man; old fart (disrespectful)

Ki – (Japanese) life force

-

Cornuto! Fa schifo! – (Italian) Bastard! You're disgusting!

Tesoro mio; dolcezza mia – (Italian) My little treasure; my sweet one

Babbuini - (Italian) baboon

Bambini; bambino – (Italian) children; little boy

Cretino! – (Italian) Idiot!

Che bella ragazza! Una cosa preziosa… - (Italian) What a pretty girl! A precious thing…

Sei di tek! - (Italian) You blockhead!

Micio - (Italian) kitten (endearment)

-

Seme – (Japanese) literally, the one who throws (as in martial arts); sexual meaning: the "one on top"

-

Per favore, niente di piu; Grazie - (Italian) Please, nothing more. Thank you.

Questa ragazza intelligente! - (Italian) This is an intelligent girl!

Linguaggio poetico - (Italian) The poetic language

Non, grazie - (Italian) No, thank you.

Cara mia - (Italian) My dear

**/-/-/-/**

**Author's notes: (9-5-05) **Okay, I know what the foremost question is in your mind, especially after scrolling past that extremely lengthy glossary:

_What?_ Is that Italian they're speaking? Why?

Now, I could give you a lengthy dissertation on my version of the Universe of the Four Gods, the composition of its lands and peoples, and how I veer not all that far from Watase-san's version, in which she has more countries than just the major four (remember the land of the killer amazons in the manga?). I could explain that in Hidden Paths, the denizens of the ShiJin each speak their own native or tribal language, but also communicate with "foreigners" in a Common Tongue. I could argue that writing a fanfic in English dealing with characters that speak Japanese while living in a world that looks like Ancient China is a great, big tossed salad of cultures and languages anyway, so why not add one more language to the pot?

But all I'm going to say is this: Inami speaks Italian because I want her to. Because it suits her fiery, gypsy-like character. Because I love the sound of her curses and endearments. But most of all, because that's the way I like it.

By the way, a quick acknowledgment to Adam, with gratitude for the use of his "Wicked Italian" phrasebook—and a promise that I will find a way to use his favorite phrase "In culo alla balena!" in an upcoming chapter of HP.

All right, as for the rest of the Genbu seishi: well, I have a funny (as in peculiar) story to tell. The members of the FY Authors' Group can tell you that I have nearly all of Hidden Paths and its sequel (pretend you didn't read that) already written in my head—the major plot points and characters, anyway. So I started formulating my ideas of what the Genbu seishi would be like back about 2 years ago, around the time of Hidden Paths debut on this site. This was long before I even knew that Yuu Watase was writing a Genbu manga.

I already knew Tomite and Hikitsu from the anime of course, and a little of Urumiya and Hatsui from OVA 1. But what would Namame, Inami, and Uruki be like? Due to the fact that Uruki (sex unknown) had the seishi symbol for "woman," I thought it would be cool if she were a woman who transformed into a man. I also imagined that her power would be the power to manipulate wind; this was influenced by battle scenes that I had pictured later in HP that would require a wind-user. Namame I saw as a powerful man who would throw a weapon that looked like a bolo but actually consisted of large rocks at each end—so he would be a sort of rock manipulator. Inami became a woman in my mind, whose seishi power would be winter-weather manipulation, like calling up a blizzard of snow and ice to whip into enemies' faces.

Okay, imagine my shock when I finally got hold of online translations of the Genbu saga less than a year ago—and found out that Uruki was a man who changed into a woman (much better and less sexist than my version I think; I really love the thought that Uruki becomes more powerful when he is a she. :P) _and_ is a wind-user; and that Namame really does manipulate stone and earth, although my version of him is vastly physically different than Watase-san's. Inami has not yet made an appearance in the Genbu manga, so I'll have to wait and see how far I'm off the mark with that canon character.

Freaky dovetailing of ideas, though, huh? I'm trying to keep as much as possible to the canon Genbu manga (which is difficult, especially since I'd had no idea that Uruki was going to be the romantic lead for Takiko), but because the whole thing isn't published yet, any differences in characterization will have to be written off to reincarnation, I suppose. Well, all right, I'm fairly certain that the, ahem, relationships I've depicted here aren't going to be canonical either, but _that_ is what I call artistic license. :P

One last word on the Genbu seishi. I must acknowledge my debt to Kryssa, who very kindly solved a dilemma I was having with Inami's name. You see, half the FY reference sites use the name "Iname" and half use "Inami." I looked up a site particular to Chinese astrology with no link to FY to act as tie-breaker, and they called the constellation "Inami." However, they also used the name "Umiyame" instead of "Urumiya." I mentioned my dilemma to Kryssa, who used her knowledge of kanji AND went out and bought a Japanese-only version of the FY manga to show me that the part in the book that depicts all 28 constellations does indeed use the names "Inami" and "Urumiya" for the Genbu constellations. My deepest gratitude, Kris!

Speaking of acknowledgments, I failed utterly in the author notes to Chapter 12 to acknowledge the novelist Kate Orman as the creator of the butterfly room in the TARDIS (although the nighttime version of it is my own mental fantasy.) I also failed to mention that the words of the Master that Chichiri meditates upon while waiting for death are an actual Buddhist koan, and therefore not my own creation.

But before I get reported for "quoting words I haven't written," I'd like to point out that Buddhist koans, being way older than the "fifty-year rule," aren't covered by copyright laws. As the rest of you probably know how I feel about this particular site restriction (which unfortunately goes along with a great many more, including one that reviles the use of asterisks), I don't need to go into it here. All I'll say is: _In culo alla balena!_ :P

Okay, back to pertinent info. Due to a funny way I have of writing chapters piecemeal, or even backwards, I'm pleased to tell you that it will _not_ be another several-month wait for HP 14. In fact, almost 75 percent of this chapter is finished _and_ beta'd, so I hope to post it just a couple of weeks hence. Also—well, it has been brought to my attention that authors are being drawn-and-quartered for replying to their reviewers, so to keep my account intact, I will merely say: To All It May Concern: (and you know who you are :P): Yes, it is indeed a daunting task to juggle so many plotlines and characters, and at the same time try to establish a feeling of story continuity on a linear timeline. I will continue to do my poor best, however, and ask you to remember that certain timelines (such as the Tokyo arc) are proceeding at a much slower pace than the events in the ShiJin. I make a promise to all of my readers, however—it gets simpler as all of the plots pull together! Really! Unfortunately…it's going to be a while before that happens.

Until next time!

_Arrivederci,_ baby! _Ciao!_

Roku


	14. Waves of remembrance

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters do belong to me (and yes, the dang text as well:P) and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

-

**Chapter 14. Waves of remembrance**

**-**

**Southern Hokkan**

-

Miaka leaned over the veranda, attempting to get a clear view of the riders approaching on the winding mountain road, but found herself firmly pulled back. Namame released her shoulders and shoved her gently towards Tasuki.

"Best get her inside, Tasuki, and arm yourself. I doubt they've seen either of you yet, but let's not take chances. Uruki, Inami—we have perhaps five minutes. Armor and weapons; I'll meet you back here."

Gone were the light, flirtatious teasing and good-natured jokes; in their place was the grim focus of seasoned warriors. Uruki and Inami vanished into their room without wasting breath on a single question, while Tasuki and Miaka hurried along in Namame's wake until they reached Miaka's room.

"Get her outfitted, lad, and yourself as well. You might be havin' to make a quick exit."

Miaka pulled on her trousers and snatched up her chest-binding gauze. Turning her back to the two men, she dropped her sleep kimono, pushing modesty aside in favor of speed. Tasuki stepped up and began wrapping her swiftly while talking to Namame.

"So you're certain that they're not friends?"

"Nay, I wouldn't say certain, but I'm not expectin' anyone today, and I don't like their timing. They're too close on your heels for my peace of mind, and I'd rather play it safe. So gather your things, and I'll show you our back-up plan."

In less than a minute, Miaka was fully dressed, and Tasuki had retrieved their saddlebags and packs. They followed Namame to a storage room in the back of the house. It had a single window opening out on the mountainside, showing a patch of brightening sky and the bramble-covered mountain.

"Out there," Namame pointed to a barely visible opening in the tangled thorns, "lies a path leading to a tunnel that'll take you clear to the other side of the mountain, if need be. Lanterns right at the mouth of the tunnel, and a couple skins of water." He smiled at Tasuki's nod of appreciation. "From my younger days; I used to be able to move a great deal more earth and stone than now. Anyway, you should be able to hear some of what is going on, and if it turns the worse for us, you two be on your way."

He shook his head at Tasuki's frustrated expression as he gripped the tessen. "Nay, lad, you know damn well that your primary responsibility is to our Priestess. You make sure she's safe before you get any fine ideas aboat avengin' us. 'Course, I'm not a'tall intendin' ta roll over and die for the pleasure of our enemies."

Suddenly the enormity of the situation struck Miaka. These people that she had met less than a day ago—these people were ready to fight to the death for her. Inami, Uruki, Namame…what had she done to deserve their loyalty?

"Namame-san," she choked, reaching for his sleeve as slow tears rolled down her cheeks.

He gently removed her hand. "Dinnae cry, Miaka; there mayn't be any danger a'tall. But any road, 'tis a fine thing for a seishi to do battle for his priestess, an honor we've not had in this lifetime. So although you might not be Priestess of Genbu, for our purposes," he lifted her chin and smiled down at her, "you'll do, lass."

"Namame!" Uruki's shout held a warning note.

"Must go." Namame held up a warning finger to Tasuki. "Remember, lad—listen and run. Nothing more."

He turned and ran back to the others, as Tasuki closed the door nearly all the way, leaving only a crack open to listen.

"What business have you with us?" Namame's bellow resounded from the veranda. The reply was too faint to reach their ears but at least was free of the thwack of arrows against the house.

"Who might you be to carry such a message, then?" he challenged them again.

There was a brief pause.

"Is that so? Then prove it!"

Miaka tugged at Tasuki's sleeve. "Can you tell what's going on? I can only hear Namame's side of the conversation."

Tasuki leaned closer to the door. "Uh-uh, I can't make out what they're saying but right now, the tone isn't exactly hostile. Wait…Uruki is saying something to Namame about letting them approach closer."

"How many of them are there?"

"I don't know. I only saw two riders, but maybe there were more further back."

Namame's voice interrupted them once more. "Fine. You seem to be what you claim, but you still haven't answered the question. What do you want with us?"

Now the reply was slightly more audible, fragments of the answer drifting to the back of the house. It sounded like a young man's voice.

"…isn't safe…enemy…you must come with us."

"Come with you? Where? And whatever for?" Namame sounded bewildered.

The riders were obviously approaching, although slowly, for the voice grew more distinct by the moment.

"…enemy…seeking out the weak ones…might be here next…"

"Weak!" snarled Inami, incensed. "_Che inciviltà!_ These children need some manners!"

Suddenly a second voice rang out. "Stop being so stubborn! We've come to help you, dammit! Oof!" It sounded as if something had hit him.

"Stubborn are we?" Namame's voice wavered between anger and amusement, his strange accent growing more pronounced. "'Tis you that comes breengeing up here, thinkin' ta lay down the law to a bunch of fusty old folks. Well, I've news for you, ye bampot bairn! We're not aboat ta leave our home on the command of some wet-behind-the-ears pup!"

"You barmy old coot, we're here to protect you!"

"Protectin' us, are ye?" cried Namame. "Tell me then, laddie, who's goin' ta protect _yer_ erse from _us?"_

There was a whooshing sound like a gust of wind, followed shortly by a dull thud as a body hit the ground.

"Ow! Dammit!"

Inami crowed in triumph. "_Alé,_ Uruki _tesorini!_ That's the way to teach these rude children how to speak to their elders!"

Miaka turned a worried gaze to Tasuki, only to see him nearly bent double in paroxysms of muffled laughter. Gasping for control, he slid the tessen back in its holster and pulled his headscarf off.

"C'mon, Miki, we'd better get out there and break up the family fight before either of my friends gets hurt."

"Friends? You know those people?"

"Yep, pretty well. Well enough to know that things can get worse if someone don't put a muzzle on them right quick."

Before she knew it, she was following him through the house, running to keep up with his swift strides. Once on the veranda, they were greeted with a strange sight: two young men ducking behind their horses as snowballs whizzed at them from out of nowhere. They reacted to Tasuki's appearance with relieved shouts.

"Tasuki! Thank Genbu you're here!"

The snowballs dropped to the ground as Inami turned around, abandoning her sport as she stared in surprise at Tasuki, seeing him for the first time without his headscarf.

_"Che bello!_ I didn't know this, that you were _un testa rosso, cara mia!"_

Removing her hand from his locks, Tasuki kissed it gallantly. "In a moment,my lady. First I have to straighten out my friends."

He signaled the young men to approach under Namame's wary eye. All three of the elder seishi were in battle armor, black breastplates and shoulder guards edged in green, and Miaka couldn't help but catch her breath at how impressive they appeared. She looked over at Uruki sitting on the rail in her feminine form, apparently relaxed but still keeping one hand on a strange weapon that looked like a flat disc with razor-sharp edges.

The blond responded immediately, walking over to the veranda while brushing snow from his blue coat, but the dark-haired youth took a few moments to locate his fur hat before following.

Tasuki waved a hand towards them. "I think it's time you were properly introduced. Genbu no Namame, Uruki, Inami, these are Genbu no Urumiya and Genbu no Hatsui. They're my friends from Mount Gyokuei."

Urumiya bowed respectfully, but Hatsui waved his hat in annoyance. "That's right! Tell them, Tasuki! Tell these recalcitrant old fools that Taiitsukun told us we were to—"

"I won't say anything as half-assed as that, ya dumb shit! If ya know what's good for ya, you'll shut yer trap, bow politely, and beg forgiveness from these _honorable elders_ for your temporary fit of extreme stupidity!"

Constrained at last by Tasuki's sharp reprimand, Hatsui bowed as ordered, muttering _Gomen nasai_, while Urumiya jabbed him with an elbow, hissing, "I told you so!" under his breath.

At that moment, a shrill cry echoed across the sky, and a dark brown form plummeted towards Urumiya. Without even blinking, he extended his leather-gauntleted arm, and a large brown-and-black steppe eagle landed lightly on his wrist. It cocked its head and peered keenly at the group through dark brown eyes offset by a yellow-edged beak.

"Ah, Kasen," Tasuki said, reaching out to stroke its dusty brown feathers. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to." He turned back to the elder seishi, looking at Inami who was muttering under her breath, angry at having been startled by the eagle. "Namame-san, Inami-sama, Uruki-san; I'm sorry for my friends' earlier rudeness, but I ask your hospitality for them; maybe the barn…"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Namame was suddenly expansive, throwing his arms around the women's shoulders. "They're our seishi brothers, aren't they? We'll just have to move the priestess in with you, Tasuki, so that you can look after her, and I'm certain that Inami and Uruki won't mind sharing my room for another few nights."

Uruki burst out laughing along with Miaka, while the younger seishi looked confused. Hatsui, however, fixed Miaka with an interested gaze. "Priestess, huh," he began but was interrupted with a sharp poke to the ribs.

Inami was glaring at him. "Just look at these_ bambini idiota,_ they are too thin! Chasing around the country, thinking they're so _intelligente_ but probably forgetting to even feed themselves! Shut up and come inside; I will make food!"

Hatsui and Urumiya hesitated, unsure of what to make of Inami's angry tone, but Tasuki shoved them towards the door.

"Go on in; don't you know an invitation when you hear one?"

**/-/-/-/**

Brunch was another massive affair, with Inami creating even more dishes than the night before. Only Miaka was allowed into the kitchen with her, and her duties were limited to peeling and cutting up vegetables or occasionally stirring a pot. Inami was the true magician of the kitchen, pounding meat into tender strips, cracking eggs, flinging around flour and spices in random handfuls or pinches, all of this performed so quickly that Miaka could barely keep up. Deep woks of hot oil sizzled, waiting for thin slices of poultry or lamb to be flung in and swept up in a mad dance with vegetables and sauce, while pots of noodles and rice simmered on the huge iron stove. Garlic was used sparingly, onions and ginger generously, and a flask of soy sauce tipped constantly, its contents frequently mixed with a dash of sugar and spice.

At last, they carried the huge plates of food to the rough-hewn table around which the men and Uruki were clustered. Kasen the eagle had flown off to the barn to hunt down mice for his own lunch, while Hatsui and Urumiya waited with barely concealed anticipation.

Inami moved around the table, ladling out food while muttering imprecations under her breath in her native tongue. She was obviously still incensed by the younger seishi's earlier insults, and she grumbled louder as she served them, although Miaka noticed that she didn't stint on the amount of food she piled on their plates. Uruki, still in female form, smiled at Tasuki, who was looking at his heaping plate in despair, obviously wondering how he was going to put away enough food to avoid insulting their hostess' cooking.

"Here, Miaka," Uruki said kindly, exiting her seat. "Why don't you sit next to Tasuki, and I'll sit over there?"

Miaka sat down eagerly, while Tasuki shot Uruki a grateful glance, realizing that he would be able to slip some of his portion to his ever-hungry priestess. Inami had just taken her own seat around the crowded table when Hatsui took a bite of a sesame-seed encrusted piece of ground lamb.

"Genbu be praised!" he burst out, then tears filled his eyes.

"Oh, there should not be pepper in that lamb!" Inami exclaimed. "Drink water, quick!"

"No, that's not it," choked Hatsui. "It's just that I haven't had this dish since my _baa-chan_ died—and even hers didn't taste as good. I haven't had food this wonderful in years!"

Inami puffed up. "Of course you haven't, _sciocco bambino!_ What do they know, these innkeepers who serve you food? Dried up meat and overboiled noodles—and they think to call themselves cooks!"

She went on scolding but rose from her seat to slide a few more pieces of lamb onto Hatsui's plate, mixing in endearments with her imprecations. Miaka smiled at Tasuki around a mouthful of dumplings, and the table soon grew loud with cheerful conversation and the clink of ceramic cups and plates.

It was a happy family atmosphere, thought Miaka as she worked her way through two helpings of every dish, and she didn't know why it seemed so familiar. After all, dinners with Keisuke and her mother were quiet, at times even strained if her mother was in a mood.

But this—this seemed right, somehow. She could almost hear familiar voices shouting at her to leave some food for the rest of them, while servants hustled dishes through the long, elegant dining room. Violet eyes mock-glared at her across the table, while Tasuki traded insults with someone sitting to her left, someone she couldn't quite…see.

Miaka blinked, and the room came back into focus: the Genbu house, not the Imperial Dining Room in Konan. _Another memory,_ she thought, and for a moment was caught up in wistful regret for the happy times lost in her sealed-off past.

"_Dolcezza mia,"_ Namame announced loudly, startling Miaka from her introspection. "Another masterpiece of your culinary skills! _Sono il tuo schiavo!"_

_"Sciocco!"_ Inami replied, but a smile curved her lips nonetheless. "You want more? Any of you?"

There was a chorus of frantic denials mixed in with compliments and groans of being overstuffed. Namame and Tasuki helped Inami clear the table, and at last they were seated again around steaming cups of fresh tea.

"Now that we're all here," Namame began, "it's time that we put our heads together and figured out what's going on. This Enemy's got us fair clagged in, and I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm right weary of it! Unless we make a real plan of attack, we'll be fightin' defensively, as hobbled as if we were sunk in mud up to our knees. But we can't make a plan without sharing whatever information we've got." He waved a hand at Hatsui and Urumiya, who in turn nodded politely at Inami and Miaka.

Urumiya took the conversational lead. "While you ladies were in the kitchen conjuring up that wondrous meal, Namame, Uruki, and Tasuki caught us up on what you already know: the attack on Mount Gyokuei, which we had sensed as well. We were out in the Hokkan hinterlands, Taiitsukun having sent us on assignment almost right after Tasuki and, er…" He glanced at Miaka, suddenly hesitant.

"Chichiri." Tasuki's voice was firm. "I know that I told ya not ta mention any of the other Suzaku seishi in front of Miaka, but we can't keep avoiding 'Chiri's name. Besides, I mentioned him yesterday when talkin' with Uruki, Naname and Inami, and it didn't seem ta trigger any unforeseen memories in her." His gaze suddenly narrowed in warning. "But 'Chiri's the only one we can mention—nobody else, got it?"

The other seishi nodded, while Miaka fought back resentment at being discussed as if she were invisible or incapable of understanding. Maybe it was inevitable that they would treat her as a child, since every seishi seemed to feel responsible for her safety. However, that train of thought derailed when a strong feeling suddenly took hold of her: nostalgia for someone who had always treated her with respect, someone who…understood her?

A vision suddenly rose before her—not distant and faraway, but recent: a face in the darkness, the far-off screech of nightmare beasts, light reflecting in a single eye. _Hold on tight, Miaka—and Suzaku's blessings be on you both!_

"Chichiri!" she said under her breath.

Finally realizing that the room had fallen silent, she looked up to see Tasuki's anxious gaze fixed upon her. Everyone was staring at her in concern, watching the play of emotions across her face. She flushed guiltily.

"Ummmm…Chichiri." She drew a finger across her left eye, trying to downplay her emotional reaction to his name. "A scar, right?"

"That's right!" Hatsui broke in with strained cheerfulness. "The one-eyed magician of Suzaku! One hell of a great guy, and one of the only two Suzaku warriors that…." He broke off under Tasuki's warning glare. "Um…a great guy," he repeated lamely.

Urumiya cuffed him lightly. "Shut up, _baka,_ and let me do the talking. At any rate, as I was saying, Hatsui and I were out in the East Hokkan when we felt the same "star explosion" as the rest of you. And just like Namame, the next day we found the origami bird telling of the attack on Tasuki and Miaka and Chichiri, so we headed toward the North Road to see if we could intercept them. But from what Tasuki told us, you two were nowhere near there—and a good thing you weren't."

Tasuki sat up straighter. "What do you mean?"

"We weren't the only ones looking for you. A few travelers who seemed trustworthy enough to talk to—well, they told us that they'd been asked the same questions just before we got to them. They said that someone was looking for a red-haired man or a blue-haired man escorting a girl. They'd been asked if they saw anyone with 'unusual powers' like shooting fire or casting spells."

"Could the travelers describe what this 'someone' looked like?"

"No; there seemed to be different people doing the questioning. Some were hard-assed slavers or bandits, others ordinary, nondescript merchant-types--but they had one thing in common: they were looking for either you or Chichiri escorting the Priestess. They knew who they were looking for, although they obviously didn't know you personally."

Another silence fell as the seishi pondered the implications. Tasuki blew out a breath.

"'Chiri was right then, warning me off the main road. It's good ta know that it was worth goin' hungry for a short while, wandering way out in the steppes. But I woulda expected you and Hatsui to have beaten us here, considerin' that we were delayed even more by goin' ta Mount Gyokuei."

Urumiya shook his head. "We were concerned when we couldn't make contact with Taiitsukun, but we had a mission other than catching up with you and our Genbu brethern. Taiitsukun had sent us out based on information given her by Uruki, Inami, and Namame that something seemed wrong in the south of Hokkan; specifically, in the land owned by Lord Shijo."

"Shijo?" Tasuki rubbed one temple thoughtfully. "I seem ta remember…wasn't he the jumped-up noble that was trying ta stir up war between Hokkan and Sairou? But I thought that he died after an initial border attack—dysentery or somethin' from bad water in the field."

"You're right; that was Shijo Taro," Uruki replied. "Originally, he was just a commoner from a rich merchant family called Odoro; mineral dealings were how they achived their wealth, I believe. But through clever political maneuvering, he managed to buy out the name and holdings of an impoverished noble family called Shijo, and even got the Emperor to agree to it. His personal obsession was worrying about Sairou's relative strength, although I think he might have been after their resources as well. Idiot that he was, he should have known that their borders were still under the protection of Byakko. He died a bad death, and although some say that Byakko had nothing to do with it, I personally detect a celestial sense of humor—or vengeance--in having Shijo die squatting over a cesspit rather than in the midst of battle."

Namame interrupted the muted snickers from the younger seishi. "It's the son, Shijo Ujitada, who's stirring up the current trouble. He's canny enough not to be charged with treason; truth be told, he seems to be a special favorite of the Emperor for some unknown reason, although," he cocked an eyebrow suggestively, "there are always rumors."

_"Traditore!"_ spat Inami. _"Serpente!"_

"Now, now, _cara mia_," Namame patted Inami's hand. "Snake he may be, but we can't prove traitor, especially when he's in such high favor at the Imperial Court. I fear the opposite: that he is convincing the Emperor to support his mad claims against Sairou—which would then make those of us who are _against_ this war appear traitorous. The Emperor has been strangely unavailable to hear the concerns of the Monks of Genbu, a development which worried us enough so that we sent the warning to Taiitsukun."

"Has Shijo got his head completely up his ass?" Tasuki asked, incredulous. "How can he hope to invade Sairou, with or without Imperial support, when Sairou's borders are still under the protection of the Byakko no Miko's wish?"

"Because he's found a way around it." Everyone looked up at the unaccustomed seriousness in Hatsui's voice. "While Urumiya and I were scouting around the borders of the Shijo holdings, we picked up on some rumors that were spreading in the smaller villages; rumors of flying black beasts that seemed to appear and disappear in the vicinity of Shijo Castle. Yet the castle itself never seemed under attack, so we have to assume that there's an alliance at work. And if they're allies…well, we already know that the Enemy can cross over into Sairou; we've just encountered them there in the past few weeks, when they attacked the reborn seishi."

"Genbu curse him to Hell!" burst out Namame. "D'ye mean that yon mingin' erse is barmy enough ta ally with the Enemy, and drag in the Emperor as well? If either edjit imagines that th' houghin' Enemy won't double-deal him in th' end, his erse is oot th' windae!"

The younger seishi and Miaka exchanged confused looks.

"He said, 'If that stupid ass Shijo is crazy enough to ally with the Enemy, and if either he and the Emperor are idiot enough to imagine that the filthy beasts won't doublecross them, then their asses are out the window…which means that they are unlikely to achieve their objective." Uruki leaned back with an ironic smile. "I'm used to translating for my partners," she explained in her pleasant, husky voice.

"Brilliant as well as beautiful!" Hatsui exclaimed, looking at Uruki's agelessly exquisite face. "Tell me, Uruki-sama, have you ever been attracted to younger men?"

Namame cleared his throat. "Nah then, youngster, it's usually considered a wee bit unmannerly ta proposition a man's wife under his own roof. Imprudent as well."

The twinkle in his eyes belied his stern tone, and it was all that Miaka could do to keep from bursting into giggles as she thought of Uruki's alternate identity.

"But…but…I thought that you were married to Lady Inami!" Hatsui was scarlet with embarrassment.

"Both of them, lad; I'm married to both of them."

"Oh. Um. Well, in that case, I apologize. A lot. A whole, _whole_ lot!"

His apology didn't save him from a cuff to the head by Urumiya.

"Getting back to the point," he glared at his abashed partner, "that's why we decided to ride up here, to make sure that the Enemy wasn't catching you three unawares. It was an added relief to find Tasuki and the Priestess safe with you as well. But the question is…safe for how long? Do Shijo and his accomplices know of your identities?"

"Hard to tell," answered Namame. "We've been around a long time, longer than his family, and perhaps we've been forgotten over the years. But even if he knows of us, it's likely that he writes us off as a group of 'recalcitrant old fools,' and doesn't spare us much thought."

Hatsui flushed at Namame's pointed remark. Tasuki took pity on him and diverted the subject.

"So where does this leave us? We hafta decide what to do next."

"Gathering information is our first priority," Uruki said, flashing a mischievous smile at Hatsui that made the young seishi blush even deeper. "We have friends in town that will act as our eyes and ears, and we need only to get word out to them to watch for any suspicious strangers."

"It seems that one of them is already on the lookout." Urumiya rubbed his neck gingerly, as if touching a bruise. "A man called Daichi took exception to me asking about the Genbu seishi, and Hatsui and I had to prove our identities before he would let us go."

"Hah!" Namame was highly amused. "So Daichi gave a couple of shichiseishi a hard time? That's just like him!"

_"Punto e basta!"_ Inami slammed both palms on the table and stood up, signaling an end to the discussion. "So we watch and we wait, that is all! But now, I have a house that needs cleaning and clothes that need washing, and you!" She pointed an accusing finger at Namame, who was sidling towards the door. "You will go out and chop wood with _il testa rosso._ We need many fires tonight, for cooking and for sleep rooms."

"But, _tesoro mio,_ someone needs to go and inform Daichi and our other friends of the new developments."

"Uruki will do it," answered Inami shrewdly. "She at least will come home while the sun is still high…and _she_ will not stink of saké when she returns."

Defeated, Namame grabbed Tasuki's arm and stomped dejectedly towards the back, while Inami drew Miaka close by her side.

"Wait and see, _ragazza mia,"_ she murmured conspiratorially. "The sun grows strong and the men will grow hot as they chop…and then they will remove their shirts. A beautiful view we will have then, no?"

She laughed at Miaka's suddenly flushed face.

**/-/-/-/**

The sun had set long before all of the chores were completed. Inami took advantage of having three additional men and a young woman around the house to institute a full regimen of spring cleaning. Goose-down quilts were fluffed and aired out, linens washed and hung on the line, rugs shaken and beaten, floors polished, window shutters cleaned, and cracks repaired.

True to Inami's prediction, Tasuki and Namame had shed their shirts while chopping enough wood to last halfway through the next winter. Inami accompanied Miaka with a bucket of cool water and a dipper to refresh the men, and while Miaka was busy trying not to stare at the display of male physiognomy before her (Namame had evidently retained his muscle tone through his wife's relentless assigning of chores), Inami craftily stole Tasuki's shirt.

So the Suzaku seishi was forced to go bare-chested for another few hours while Inami claimed to be washing all of the men's shirts. In the interim, she kept coming up with chores for Tasuki and Miaka to do together, including searching the nearby woods for tender dandelion shoots and a type of green onion that grew only in early spring. Miaka felt grateful that Tasuki hadn't seemed to notice Inami's heavy-handed matchmaking stratagems—or at least he hadn't commented on them.

She sighed, leaning back against the veranda steps in the same position as the night before…and with the same companion as well.

"I feel like I'm never going to move again," she confessed to Tasuki. "And I'm not sure if it's because of all the work we did today, or that gigantic dinner Inami prepared."

"Are ya really complainin' about too much food?" Tasuki cast an accusing glance in her direction. "Who are you, and what didja do with Miaka?"

Miaka giggled, glad to feel so at ease around him, despite the fact that he had caught her sneaking some peeks at him in the woods, and despite…last night. Against her will, her thoughts turned helplessly back to the same questions from the previous night.. _Why did he touch me like that? What did he mean by it? What do I mean to—_

The door slammed open behind them. "Oi! We damn near tripped over you two! What are you doing out here?"

"Same as you, I expect." Tasuki tilted his face towards Urumiya and Hatsui, flashing a fangy grin. "Unless you have a different reason for being sleepless."

_"Kuso!"_ exclaimed Hatsui. "At first we thought, Okay, maybe half an hour. But they kept going at it, and then it was an hour. And then another half-hour went by, and we said, the hell with this, let's take a walk!" Suddenly he realized whom he was complaining to—and what about. "Oh! I apologize for my language, Priestess, and for talking about, uh…"

Miaka laughed. "Don't worry about it, Hatsui; Tasuki and I were kept awake by them last night, so you're not shocking me. And please call me just Miaka, since we're already friends."

Hatsui sat down on the veranda near Miaka, obviously charmed by her friendly manner, while Urumiya took a seat on the rail.

He impatiently pushed his blond bangs out of his eyes. "So they were at it last night, too? You have to hand it to Namame; he's sure got a lot of energy for his age."

"Oh, I wouldn't give all the credit to Namame," Miaka remarked mischievously. "He has some help in there, I believe."

Hatsui gave a whistle of admiration. "I agree completely, Miaka! Those are some _fine _women he's married to. Yes, they might be older than me by a couple of decades…"

"A couple!" snorted Tasuki under his breath.

"…but they still look beautiful. What I wouldn't give to be in Namame's place!"

Miaka went off into peals of laughter, making Hatsui smile uncertainly. "Did I say something funny?"

"You'll find out in the morning," Tasuki replied comfortably. "Obviously you weren't paying attention when Chichiri was tellin' us 'bout the ages and powers of the older Genbu and Byakko seishi. Just remember this: be careful what you wish for."

Both of the younger Genbu looked confused, until suddenly Urumiya's eyes went wide, and he smacked a hand into his forehead.

"What?" asked Hatsui, startled.

"Nothing," said Urumiya, taking in Tasuki's wink. "Just don't proposition Uruki anymore, okay?"

"I wasn't going to!" protested Hatsui. "She's married, I know that already!"

"You don't know the half of it," Tasuki muttered to Miaka, sending her off into another fit of giggles.

They spent the next hour telling jokes and relating stories about their childhoods, since they couldn't talk about their seishi missions in front of Miaka. Hatsui went out of his way to tell hilarious anecdotes, obviously enjoying Miaka's characteristic peals of laughter.

"I can't believe it!" she gasped. "You mean that you _always_ hid in baskets as a child?"

"As long as I could find one large enough to fit into. My parents could never figure out why…and neither could I, to tell the truth. All they knew is that if they found that something valuable was mysteriously broken or all the goats were wandering out of their pen, or any other kind of boy-type devilry, they had to search every basket if they wanted to spank me."

Miaka's laugh was interrupted by a hiccup followed by a wide yawn.

"That's enough for you, young lady," Tasuki said in a mock-severe tone. "Off to bed; I think our hosts have finally hit the hay as well."

"But where will you sleep?"

"On the floor, which is a hell of a lot warmer than the open ground, so don't give me that look. Just toss a couple blankets down for me; I'll give ya a few minutes headstart to do all yer 'girly-gettin'-ready-for-bed' stuff; ya know, all that scary face cream and weird hair clips an' shit."

"I do not—!" Miaka began, then realized that Tasuki was teasing her. "Oh shut up," she grumbled, pretending to be angry, but she flashed Urumiya and Hatsui a wide smile before she flounced off to bed.

Hatsui sat grinning at the door that she had disappeared behind. "That's one really special priestess you've got there, Tasuki."

"Yeah, I know."

"And you're sharing a room with her because…?"

"I'm there ta protect her, nothin' else, so get yer mind outta the gutter!"

"All right, all right." Hatsui put his hands up placatingly, completely missing Urumiya's frantic gestures behind Tasuki's back. "I was just thinking that since she's a lovely young widow, and I'm a lonely young seishi, and Suzaku's already been summoned, why don't I…" He trailed off, finally aware of a palpable chill in the air.

Tasuki finally broke the icy silence. "I think I'll head off ta bed now." He spun on his heel and left the Genbu seishi out in the darkness, closing the door firmly behind him.

Hatsui let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "_Shikuso!_ I don't know why, but for a moment there, I thought he was going to rip me to pieces! I found myself wishing for a basket of _any_ size to hide in!"

"You complete and utter ass!" Urumiya pushed off the rail and cuffed Hatsui sharply in the head.

"Ow! What did you do that for?"

"Didn't you see me waving at you? Of all the _stupid_ things to say—you're just lucky that he decided to spare your worthless hide, because if he had decided to do you some violence, there's no way I would've been able to stop him! He's a Miko no Seishi at full power, you fool, and _his_ particular power is speed!"

"Yeah, I know that, but what did I do wrong? Why would he want to hurt _me?_"

"Arrrrggh!" Urumiya gripped his head in frustration. "You not only forget lessons, you forget important gossip as well! Don't you remember any rumors about Tasuki and his Priestess?"

"Wellll…" Hatsui's face went red. "But you told me that the gossip was all lies! You said that what happened at that inn was due to an evil spell, something to do with Chichiri's enemy taking revenge through Tasuki—"

"Yes, that's true, but use your brain for once! Why do you think the spell worked on Tasuki? What was he thinking that made him a target for Chichiri's enemy?"

"Well, you said Chichiri explained that Tasuki thought he was helping the Priestess, that he was going to make her happy by taking her away from…. Oh. Oh shit."

"'Oh shit' is right. How you're going to apologize to Tasuki, I don't know, since we can't exactly bring any of this up…" Urumiya trailed off, realizing that Hatsui was no longer listening to him.

The dark-haired seishi was staring off into space with a goofy smile.

"Just think," he said dreamily. "All those years of unrequited love, and now they're together again, and she doesn't remember their tragic past. Isn't it romantic?" His eyes were shining mistily.

"Gah, you're hopeless!" fumed Urumiya, then stomped off to their own room, slamming the door shut behind him

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Somewhere in the cracks between space and time**

-

Chichiri stood at the entrance of the vaulted room, staring at the expanse of water stretching out before him. It was a giant bathing pool, at least twice as large as the one that Hotohori had provided for the Imperial concubines. One corner of his mouth quirked up as he remembered the time that Nuriko had staged an elaborate ruse, constructing a series of events that had tricked all of the Suzaku seishi into ending up at the sequestered place. His grin widened as he remembered Tasuki cursing and sputtering after an angry concubine had pushed him into the pool; if not for Hotohori's quick intervention, she might have ended up drowning the furious bandit.

Silly pranks and jokes. Happy times, before all of the tragedy that occurred after the failed summoning.

Before the events of the Star-Gazing Festival.

He shook his head, pushing aside the melancholy thoughts. It was stupid to attach sadness to every happy memory, as if true happiness existed only if it were a permanent state of being. Wasn't it the ephemeral nature of these joyous moments that made them all the more precious?

Chichiri lifted his face to the artificial sun and smiled. He intended to savor every moment of happiness left to him in this existence—starting now.

Following the subliminal messages left in his mind, he walked over to a bundle sitting near some potted plants and read the attached note.

_Enjoy._

He lifted the bundle and examined it. It consisted of a thick, soft towel, as large as his kesa, and…a strange pair of trousers. Holding the brightly patterned cotton garment next to his body, he squinted down at it. The waist looked as if it would fit him, but for some reason, the trouser legs were so short that they barely reached his knees. He shrugged. Perhaps that was what the Doctor expected him to wear around the TARDIS until his own clothes were cleaned.

Placing the trousers back on top of the towel, he undressed quickly, diving into the water with a clean, smooth motion. He surfaced, tossing his bangs out of his face, then began to swim the length of the pool with long, leisurely strokes. The water was perfect, feeling like a sun-warmed pond on a summer day. It glided over his skin, caressing him as gently as a lover's hand.

Happiness. Serenity. The soothing hiss of water as it swished past his ears. Somewhere in the music of the rushing water rose an achingly familiar melody.

-

_I remember a meadow one morning in May_

-

He opened his arms in a powerful breast stroke and opened his mind at the same time, letting the memories flood through him. The music flowed around him with the water, lifting and carrying him as lightly as a leaf in a river.

_-_

_With a sky full of dreams that sailed in that day_

_I was dancing through green waves of grass like the sea_

-

The joy swelled in his heart, until that he felt as if his entire being were singing.

-

_For a moment in time I could feel_

_I was free..._

-

Breaking the surface, he dashed the water from his eyes…and met the smiling blue-green gaze of the Doctor.

"Good morning, Houjun."

Happiness bubbled over, making him grin like an idiot, but for once he didn't care.

"_Ohayo,_ Doctor. Are you going to swim?"

The Doctor laughed, leaning against his cello and waving his bow. "I have my hands a bit full at the moment, I'm afraid. But you go on."

He was dressed more casually than usual, conceding to the warm humidity of the pool area by leaving off his frock coat, cravat, and waistcoat. His white silk shirt was open at the collar and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but other than that, he was fully dressed.

"Come on in, Doctor. The water's wonderful." Feeling playful, Chichiri splashed a bit of water at him.

"Well, it's obvious that I'd better put the Stradivarius away. Antonio will have my head if he sees water spots on his precious finish. Besides that, I wanted to speak with you."

Chichiri frowned. "I can come out."

"No, no, no, no, no. You're obviously enjoying yourself, so I'll just come to you."

The Doctor carefully set the cello back against the wall, then kicked off his boots and stockings and rolled up his trouser legs. Dropping down on the edge of the pool, he dangled his feet in the water.

"You're right, Houjun; the water feels wonderful."

"It feels even better if you're all the way in. Come on, Doctor."

"Perhaps in a while. Right now, we need to discuss our next move. I must tell you, Houjun, of all the places in the universe that I might have encountered you, I'd never expected to find you on the outer shell of the Swarm mothership."

Chichiri had been floating on his back, but at those words, he spun in shock, crashing beneath the water. He thrashed to the surface and pushed to the edge of the pool, coughing up water under the Doctor's concerned gaze.

"I'm sorry, Houjun; I thought that you knew! How else did you end up there?"

"Accident!" gasped Chichiri, finally clearing the last of the water from his lungs. "I caught a ride on one of the Enemy without knowing where it was going. I knew that we'd crossed dimensions, but I had no idea that we'd traveled that far!"

"Unfortunately, it wasn't very far at all. I'm afraid that the Swarm is only one short dimensional hop away from your own world. Tell me what has been happening."

In a halting voice, Chichiri told him of the attacks on the seishi children and the destruction of the Suzaku monastery, all the while wondering how he could have been so _blind!_ Why didn't he immediately connect the hidden Enemy with that disastrous encounter with Magus all those years ago? Perhaps he had been afraid to face the truth: that he himself was responsible for this growing threat to their world.

"Now that's utter nonsense, and you know it! I won't permit you to go on thinking such complete drivel!"

Chichiri blinked at the force of the Doctor's anger…and at the familiar way that the Doctor easily invaded his thoughts. He couldn't help it; in spite of his dread, he suddenly had to repress a smile.

"Yes, I know that I'm being rude, but you're being extremely provoking. After all these years, I thought that you would have outgrown your propensity for taking responsibility for everything that goes wrong in your universe."

"As you have?" Chichiri shot the Doctor an ironic look.

The Doctor looked nonplussed for a moment before breaking into a rueful grin.

"Point taken, Houjun. Very well, we will both assume guilt and then absolve one another for falling into Magus' machinations. We shall acknowledge that we, as one of my companions has said many times, are deep in the muck now, thus the need to formulate an immediate plan of action. I don't know if you remember this from so long ago, but in addition to our own danger, there is a possible threat to the world from which your priestess originates."

Chichiri paled. "I forgot to tell you, Doctor!"

He recounted the story of the fatal attack on Tamahome and the current danger for the Priestess of Seiryuu, all the while watching the Doctor's eyes grow darker and bleaker. By the end of his story, he was shivering in the pool.

The Doctor lowered his gaze, staring thoughtfully into the water as he rubbed one finger across his lips. "I won't lie to you, Houjun; the situation is very dire. We must find a way to defeat the Swarm, and we haven't much time to do so. Not only because of the Swarm itself; our one advantage seems to be that they are proceeding in their usual methodical and cautious manner. The greater danger may come from my own people."

"Your own people?"

"Yes. If the High Council of Time Lords gets wind of a possible threat to the nexus of galactic history—otherwise known as Earth, the world of your priestesses and your lost warrior—they may unravel time to the point of wiping out the existence of your world. They may…they may make it so that Magus—or you or your gods—had never existed at all."

Chichiri let go of the edge of the pool, letting himself sink beneath the surface as he pondered the immensity of their danger. It was almost too much for one human mind to take in: the thought that neither he nor his world would ever have come into being at all. He had often faced his own death with a certain trust in his fate at the hands of the gods…but this was annihilation on a scale that crossed over into abomination.

No.

No, he wasn't going to let that happen. No matter the cost.

He surfaced abruptly, washing a wave of water over the edge of the pool, his gaze dark and intent on the Doctor.

"That isn't going to happen. We're going to stop them."

"The Swarm or the Time Lords?"

"Both, if need be."

Unexpectedly, the Doctor broke into a sunny smile. "My thoughts exactly, Houjun! 'Damn the torpedoes,' as they say on Earth. So the sooner we start, the better. Right after breakfast, we're going to assemble the original team."

"The original team?"

"Yes; those of us who fought this initial battle so many years ago."

Houjun gripped the side of the pool. "Do you mean…her?"

The Doctor's gaze softened. "Yes—if you don't object to that, of course."

"No…no, I don't object, but…will she? Do you think she'll want to…?" He paused, unable to go on.

"We won't know until we ask her."

"Do you know where to find her?"

"I believe that I have a fairly good idea of where to start looking."

Chichiri pushed away from the edge once more, floating on his back and staring at the vaulted ceiling, feeling as if the world were spinning around him. Was this really going to happen? After all this time, was he really going to see her again?

Was it right that he should feel this ridiculous surge of joy in the midst of the overwhelming threat to their very existence? Suddenly, it was as if he heard his Master's words, reciting an ancient koan in his head:

-

_A traveler, fleeing a tiger who was chasing him, ran till he came to the edge of a cliff. There he caught hold of a thick vine, and swung himself over the edge._

_Above him the tiger snarled. Below him he heard another snarl, and behold, there was another tiger, peering up at him. The vine suspended him midway between two tigers._

_Two mice, a white mouse and a black mouse, began to gnaw at the vine. He could see they were quickly eating it through. Then in front of him on the cliffside he saw a red, luscious strawberry. Holding onto the vine with one hand, he reached out and picked the strawberry with the other._

_How sweet it tasted!_

-

Truth, in the simplest of parables.

It was time that he savored the happiness that life granted him, no matter how ephemeral it might be. Swimming swiftly back to the Doctor, Chichiri took firm hold of the time lord's ankles and fixed him with an innocent look.

"You're far too dry," he remarked, then kicked off from the edge of the pool.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Midwestern USA**

-

Gleaming skyscrapers towered over the park overlooking a lake the size of a small ocean. The sounds of traffic were muted behind the roar of a huge, European-style fountain spraying a plume of water 150 feet in the air. Off to the lee side of the fountain, several tables were scattered for the convenience of diners who were taking advantage of the outdoor food stalls and the balmy sunshine of late spring.

One table held a lively group of four people: three women and one young man, siblings by the look of them. They were caught up in watching a wedding party that was setting up for scenic pictures by the fountain.

"Pretty soon," remarked the youngest of the women.

The young man, several years her junior, sat up straighter in anticipation. "I'm beginning to feel it…"

The words were barely out out of his mouth when the light breeze gave way to a gust of wind that blasted the plume of water directly over the wedding party.

"Assholes," remarked the short, stocky woman at the table, smirking as the bride and bridesmaids let out screams of dismay, trying to run from the relentless shower.

"You're such a bitch, Rowena," remarked her younger sister affectionately.

"Well, what the fuck did they think was gonna happen, standing on the windward side of the fountain? Yuh-_duh! _And don't call me by that fuckin' girly name. I'm _Rocky,_ remember, like 'rocklike fists upside of your head?'"

Her younger sister shrugged, unimpressed by the implied threat, while the eldest of the three women glanced up from a thick stack of papers. Unlike the casual jeans-and-sweatshirt garb of her sisters, she was dressed in a fashionable black pantsuit and pointy-toed pumps.

"Quit fighting, you two, I'm trying to recheck this deposition. And stop complaining about your name, Rooo-weeee-na, I picked it out for you myself."

"Yeah, I know, thanks a million. Can't tell you how happy I am that your favorite cartoon heroine was Princess Rowena of Ragnarok—and that you managed to convince Mom that it was an All-American name!"

"What did I know? I was three, for God's sake. You're just lucky that I didn't talk Mom into naming you Ethel Mertz."

"If there's such a thing as reincarnation, Kathleen, I swear that I'm going to be reborn first, and then I'm going to name _you_ Esmerelda Platypus Plotz!"

The youngest woman leaned back and grinned at the man sitting with them. "Aren't you glad that you decided to have lunch with your big sisters, Robby? Raising the level of excitement in your life?"

He snorted, his keen blue eyes scanning the crowd with a distracted air. "Oh yeah, watching you three pull each other's hair is such a novelty, like I haven't seen it all my life."

"Poor baby. Could be worse. Could be _your_ hair we're pulling!" She reached over and tugged at his short, wavy locks, so similar to her own.

"Lay off, Joss!" he growled in mock irritation. "And it's Rob,' not 'Robby.' I'm twenty-three years old, not some baby."

"You're _my_ baby," she replied cheerfully and pinched his cheek, smacking him playfully when he swatted her hand away.

"Or maybe it's _'RAH-_bert,' said Rocky, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"You can lay off as well, Rocky. I told you that Cindy was just being…Cindy."

"The last I heard, she was calling herself 'Cynthia' and inviting her sorority sisters to your wedding. If you don't watch your step, buddy, we're gonna end up embroiled in _another_ breach-of-promise suit."

Joss flushed, while Kathleen held her head and groaned. "Nooooooo, please, _no!_ Just because you happen to have a lawyer in the family doesn't mean that I'm available twenty-four-seven for straightening out my siblings' legal entanglements!"

"You wouldn't be involved in even _one_ lawsuit if either of those younger ones would ever listen to me! But _noooooooo,_ we gotta give every dickwad in the world the benefit of the doubt."

Joss gritted her teeth. "Look, Rocky, I've had to listen to you say, 'I told you so,' at least fifty times already! How long are you gonna keep harping on me?"

"Until I'm sure that you won't fuck up like this again. I told you he was a dickhead approximately five minutes after I first met him! What the hell were you _thinking?_"

"I was thinking that we were just friends. Then, when he started going on about how maybe we could have a family together…I guess I stopped thinking at all." Joss met her older sister's gaze, her own brown eyes clouded with misery. "I'm thirty-two years old, Rocky, and pretty soon it's gonna be too late for me. Maybe I just wanted a chance at what you and Kathleen have with your children…and maybe some part of me thought that it didn't matter who I had those kids with. Because you know, I'm never gonna love anyone the way I loved…him."

There was a heavy silence at the table. All three siblings had heard of the man that Joss had met while on her side trip to "China," seven years ago, but only Rocky knew the true story behind it all. It seemed nearly impossible to believe, but after listening to her younger sister sob out the details one night, she had blinked, shrugged and then remarked, 'There are more things on heaven and earth, Horatio…' and left it at that.

But now…

"All right." Her voice suddenly husky, Rocky passed a hand quickly across her eyes. "All right. I'm gonna quit giving you a hard time, because in the end, you were smart enough to tell that asshole to go pound salt. Just in the nick of time, too."

Joss swallowed hard, remembering that moment when she'd walked into City Hall with David and suddenly knew, _knew_ with a conviction as immovable as stone, that she could never marry him or anyone else, because everything in her was yearning for the one man who—the one man that—

"Yeah." Kathleen had dropped her professional lawyer's tone and now assumed her usual South Side accent. "Don't you worry about anything, Jossy-Kay. Your big sisters are gonna hand Mr. Whiny-Bastard David Marinowsky his balls on a platter. Breach-of-promise suit, huh. He's gonna learn what happens when he messes with the Nagano-Kerns!"

All four clasped their hands on top of one another's, Musketeer-style, grinning at each other like loons.

"Okay!" Rocky clapped her hands, embarrassed as usual by display of her softer side. "Since we are disposing of erstwhile fiances with the paper sword of justice, it's time to find you a bit of recreation. Just a nice, quick, one-night-stand, Joss."

"Oh, god!" Rob hid his face in his hands. "Do you _have_ to play this game when I'm around?"

"Don't worry, Baby Bro, we'll find someone for you, too. Hey Joss, just behind your right shoulder—I believe it's Mr. Right!"

"Tell me," said Joss, her expression carefully deadpan.

"Oh, just your usual up-and-coming stockbroker. Expensive suit, body buffed by personal trainer, tanning-bed-bronzed skin…"

Joss twisted to look behind her, spotting the usual East Bank Club type, with a vacuous, self-absorbed expression on his face guaranteed to win the hearts of pom-pom girls everywhere.

"Oh God!"

All three sisters simultaneously raised their thumbs and forefingers two inches apart in an unmistakable gesture.

"You wenches are harsh!" complained Rob.

"Oh shut up, where else are you gonna learn the truth about what women _really_ think?"

"There are some things that I think it would be better _not_ to know!"

"Surrender, Luke," intoned Joss in a deep, gravelly voice. "Give yourself over to the Dark Side. It Is Your _Des_-ti-ny!"

Rocky frowned at her younger brother. "I said that I'd quit harping on Joss, but I didn't make the same promise to you, Robby-chan. Come on, little brother, spill. Why is Miss Cynthia Beaumont still crashing at your place, when the redecorating job on her apartment shoulda been finished over a month ago? I thought this was a platonic friendship."

Rob squirmed under his sisters' laser glares. "Look, I was just trying to help her out. You know that we broke up ages ago, right after high school. But one night, maybe about three weeks back, she brought home a bottle of wine and started talking about old times…and I guess I might've drunk too much, because… Anyway, now it's kind of hard to ask her to move out."

"Shit!" Rocky held her head in her hands. "Better start drawing up a duplicate set of defense papers, Kathleen; the lawsuits are coming in spades."

"There isn't going to be a lawsuit!" Rob was indignant. "I didn't promise her anything. Besides, she's not as bad as you think; we get along okay and have lots of the same interests."

Rocky snorted derisively, but Joss leaned over and took her brother's hand. "Listen, Robby-chan, take it from someone who knows. Don't settle for anything less than the real thing, okay?"

There was another moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Hey, here comes another one," said Kathleen, trying to lighten the atmosphere by going back to the game. "Just what you like, Joss: the earthy type, who enjoys the sensual pleasures in life."

Joss twisted around gamely, only to see a three-hundred-pound tourist licking desperately at a dripping ice-cream cone.

"Thanks, guys. I'll be sure to bring him over for holidays at your place."

Suddenly Rocky straightened, sending an incredulous look over Joss' left shoulder. "Hey, look at this! Some reeeeeeal quality stuff is headed this way!"

Joss crossed her arms, refusing to be taken in. "Yeah, right."

"No, I'm serious! An absolutely gorgeous man, wavy brown hair kinda long, Oscar Wilde-style velvet frock coat—must be an actor or something. And the guy with him is a knockout, too—simple Chinese-style shirt and pants, but he's wearing an eyepatch and…does he have _blue_ hair?"

Joss stiffened in her chair, looking at her sister with eyes full of betrayal.

"That's not funny, Rocky," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"I'm not joking." Rocky suddenly focused on Joss, surprised at the emotion in her voice. Her eyes widened as she suddenly understood. She grabbed Joss' shoulder, trying to turn her around. "I'm not making fun of you, Joss—they're _really_ heading this way! Just turn around and look!"

"I can't."

Rob and Kathleen stared, finally realizing that something was going on with Joss. She looked at her siblings helplessly, unable to stop the tears.

"I can't look," she whispered. "I couldn't bear it if it wasn't—"

"Hello, Joss."

The velvet tones were just as soft as she remembered them, the melodic accent as hypnotic. She struggled for control for one moment longer—then let go, spinning out of her chair and flinging herself into his arms.

"Doctor!" she sobbed, burying her face in the familiar sandalwood-scented folds, feeling him hold her as tenderly as always. She burrowed deeper into him, losing all sense of time, losing herself in him once more. Hiding…

Eventually, the waves of comfort flowing from him calmed her, enabling her to loosen her grip. But only slightly.

"Joss, there's someone else here."

"Yes, I know," she whispered into his coat.

"Won't you—?"

"I'm scared, " she confessed with her characteristic honesty. "Is he—does he—?"

"You won't know until you see him."

"All right."

She pushed away from the Doctor, only dimly aware of her siblings crowding curiously around them, then turned and lifted her eyes.

"He's older, " she thought a little inanely. "Maybe even older than me. Better-looking, too. I wonder if he ever…?"

But that thought was destined to go unfinished, because at that moment he smiled at her, and behind his smile was something as hopeful and frightened and vulnerable as she was—and she was moving towards him, moving into his arms, fitting into him the way she remembered, the way that she'd dreamed of for seven long, achingly lonely years.

And everything was all right; _finally_, blessedly all right, because no matter what lay ahead, they'd already overcome the biggest obstacle. They'd found one another again, across two worlds and a multitude of years.

She eventually pulled back, smiling weakly at the Doctor from within the shelter of Chichiri's arms. The Doctor's expression had grown serious.

"Joss, there's something we need to ask you…"

She held up a trembling hand to silence him. "Before you say anything else, Doctor—the answer is yes, _yes,_ a thousand times YES!"

"There will be danger."

"I assumed that."

"Your family?"

She looked back at her siblings, at their eyes filled with tears. "They understand," she said softly.

Rocky stepped forward, rubbing at her eyes. "Damn right we do. But there's one thing, Doctor, er…Doctor. You'd better take good care of her, or you'll have _me_ to answer to! And trust me, you don't want to piss me off."

The Doctor smiled uncertainly. "Somehow I believe you. You have my solemn word as a gentleman and a time lord that I will guard her life with my own."

Rocky's eyes narrowed speculatively at his words. "Time lord, eh? So that means, provided that everything turns out okay, you should have no trouble bringing Joss back for Thanksgiving dinner at my place, right? You two are expected as well, of course."

The Doctor took a deep breath. "Agreed."

Joss was already hugging and kissing her other two siblings, somehow never losing hold of Chichiri's hand. In almost no time, the three travelers were running down the steps of the fountain plaza and, with one last wave from Joss, they disappeared around the corner. Moments later, the air vibrated with a strange wheezing, groaning sound that faded quickly into the noise of normal afternoon traffic.

Kathleen wiped a tear from her eye. "So she's gone…for a long time, I take it."

"Mm-hm." Rocky was uncharacteristically succinct.

"And all that talk about danger?"

"Don't worry, they'll take care of her."

Kathleen sighed. "Obviously you believe that; otherwise you wouldn't've let her go."

Rocky shrugged. "Yeah, I trust them…but in this case, Joss wouldn't have stopped, no matter what I said."

"I hope you know that we expect a complete and detailed explanation, especially about that 'time lord' stuff, and we're not letting you off the hook, even if I have to depose you myself!"

"Fine, all right, but I demand another round of iced tea before we start. It's a fuckin' long story, and I don't want my throat to dry up halfway through."

They turned and starting walking toward a nearby lemonade stand, when they noticed that they were missing another sibling. Rob had hung back, staring at the spot where his sister had disappeared and chewing his lip thoughtfully.

"You all right, Robby-chan?" Kathleen's voice was tenderly solicitous.

"I'm asking Cindy to move out tonight. If she won't go, I'll pack _my_ things and leave."

"That's a pretty radical change of heart," remarked Rocky.

"Yeah, it is. But I finally realized something." Rob looked at his sisters, his expression open and vulnerable. "That look on Joss' face…the way she looked when she saw him again—I want that in my life. I want to feel something that deep and real, and…and I want a woman who will have that look on her face when she looks at me."

He stared out at the lake, his eyes distant and slightly dreamy. "I won't settle for anything less, I promise, Onee-chan."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Kutou, Imperial City**

-

Nuriko stood at the throne room doors, his bracelets loose on his wrists, his hand resting lightly on his sword hilt. He noted that Hotohori was in the same battle stance, her eyes focused and hard.

It had been a long journey to this point, but the worst of it had been over the last two days, once they had crossed over into Kutou. Dear _gods,_ the devastation! He had thought Eiyou and Konan badly damaged by the war, but they were bustling and healthy next to the wasteland that Kutou had become.

The dried-up wheat fields. The skeletal carcasses along the roads. The garbage in the city streets, ignored by a population too weak and hopeless to care.

The hollow-eyed, hungry children.

He fought back his anger, not wanting resentment to compromise their mission. He was well aware that the man who was now Emperor of Kutou wasn't the same emperor responsible for the senseless war that had devastated two countries…yet Nuriko found it hard to forgive anyone in the government for the desolation of the children.

The current emperor was a minor general who had once taken orders from Nakago, before seizing power in the third bloody coup since the war ended. He'd held on to the jade throne for over two years now—so why hadn't he made any inroads in alleviating the suffering of his people?

Without taking her eyes off the doors, Hotohori reached out and gently squeezed his hand. _Patience,_ she seemed to say silently. His hand tightened around hers for a moment before releasing it. All right; he would yield to her greater experience in international diplomacy, keeping his mouth shut and following her lead.

The doors finally opened with a squeal of rusted hinges, and the sullen guards gestured them in.

It was a long, strange walk to the Imperial throne. The carpet was worn and threadbare, its former glory evident in the dull gleam of a few remaining gold threads. Along each side of the room ranged the Imperial Guard, their uniforms as threadbare as the carpet, their faces surly or, when they looked at Hotohori, openly lustful.

_Undisciplined,_ thought Nuriko, feeling more like dinner rather than a diplomatic envoy. He subtly tightened his hand around his sword hilt.

Interspersed between the guard were monks of Seiryuu, each one standing quietly in his blue robe with shakujou held before him and bamboo kasa bowed in respect or prayer. The monks' quiet piety made them look considerably more disciplined than the guard beside them.

Except for the last one. Nuriko stared at the lead monk standing at the foot of the jade throne…at least he appeared to be the leader, judging from the design of his robes. The man seemed too young for that position of honor; perhaps only in his late twenties, with a thick ponytail of black hair and dragon locks framing an unusual countenance that appeared both refined and rugged at the same time. Strangest of all was his expression: openly curious and cheerful, shading into deep appreciation as Hotohori entered his line of sight.

Nuriko bristled. No wonder the country was going to hell, if even their priests knew nothing of monastic discipline. The monk suddenly caught Nuriko's disapproving glare—and winked.

"So. A delegation from our dear neighbors in Konan." The emperor's gravelly voice snapped Nuriko's attention away from the monk.

In one fluid motion, Hotohori had dropped into a deep and respectful bow, touching her forehead to the ground, and Nuriko quickly followed suit.

"You honor us, Heika."

The man snorted. "As if I had any choice. Get up."

As he rose to his feet, Nuriko fought back another surge of anger at the man's boorishness. Had this man really served under Nakago? As much as he had hated the Kutou shogun, Nuriko had seen enough of the man's discipline to know that he would never have tolerated such crudeness from those under his command.

Then again, Nakago had died over ten years ago.

The emperor was a large man with grey-streaked hair and the heavy build of an old soldier whose muscle was going to fat. Nuriko suddenly took in the man's sunken features, rheumy eyes, and the slight trembling in his limbs. His heart sank. The emperor had all the hallmarks of one caught in the spell cast by the seeds of the poppy.

How were they supposed to deal with a drug addict?

The emperor had risen to his feet and now stood towering above them. He made an abrupt gesture at the lead monk.

"Word of your arrival was delivered to me just today by these servants of the _patron god_ of Kutou." His words were thick with sarcasm, but the young monk responded only by tipping his head respectfully. "It seems the gods have decided that Kutou needs the help of our more fortunate…neighbor. So I was commanded to allow you entry," his eyes flicked to their sword belts, "armed in my presence. A unprecedented liberty."

"We are here to serve, Heika, with what abilities we possess. The gods have sent us to help strengthen Kutou, so that she will be an effective ally in our struggle against this unknown enemy." Hotohori's voice remained soft and respectful.

The emperor moved closer, suddenly grasping Hotohori's chin and turning her face to his. Nuriko tensed, but a subtle gesture from her kept him in place.

"Well, at least they have sent a rare beauty to deliver this…succor." His voice suddenly hardened. "I take orders from no one, not priest nor the gods themselves! This throne is mine, and I will defy any force, be it from heaven or hell, to wrest it from my grasp!"

He leaned in towards Hotohori, his features contorted in something between a snarl and a leer. "You will serve Kutou, my lady, by servicing _me._ When I am finished with you, I will send whatever is left of you directly to your god!"

Nuriko shoved the Emperor away from Hotohori, his bracelets transforming into gauntlets, as Hotohori's sword sang out of its scabbard. They stood back to back as the Imperial guard drew their own weapons.

"Take them!" snarled the Emperor, and there was a flurry of motion as the guards rushed towards the seishi.

Nuriko took down three men with a single sweep of his sword, kicking the next attacker halfway across the room. Another guardsman found himself lifted by a gauntleted arm and flung through the air, landing hard and cracking his head against the jade throne. The seishi was caught up in the heat of battle, only dimly aware of Hotohori moving beside him as lightly as a dancer, the holy sword of Suzaku flashing with scarlet light. The Kutou emperor stumbled back behind his personal guard, fear in his eyes as the power of the Suzaku seishi blazed forth in red fury…

…and just like that, it was over.

There were no more guards rushing at them; nothing but the groan of injured men. Nuriko breathed heavily, his muscles trembling with unused adrenaline, his eyes darting around the room as he registered that every remaining guardsman was pinned beneath the shakujou of a Seiryuu monk.

He looked up at the throne to see the Emperor's eyes glazed with astonishment…before the man fell over, spurting blood in a grisly fountain, his throat slashed nearly to the bone.

Behind him, holding a bloodied dagger, was the young monk who had appeared so blithe earlier, and who now flashed a brief but incongruously cheerful grin. Stepping delicately around the pool of blood spilling down the dais, he looked down at the Emperor's body and raised his free hand vertically before his face, intoning a brief prayer.

"Who are you?" The words burst from Nuriko as he moved protectively closer to Hotohori. "What have you done?"

"I've sent the late emperor to a private audience with our god," the monk replied in a deep, smooth voice. "Seiryuu was very anxious to speak with him."

He approached the seishi, his grin widening as Nuriko raised his sword defensively. He bowed and offered the hilt of the dagger to Hotohori.

"Honorable Suzaku seishi, allow me to introduce myself: Seiryuu no Seishi Miboshi…at your service."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Glossary of Terms: (in order of appearance)**

-

Dinnae – (Scottish) Do not

Che inciviltà! – (Italian) How rude!

Breenging – (Scottish) Moving in a rapid, devil-may-care fashion, especially while intoxicated with one's own self-importance

Fusty – (Scottish) Dusty, smelling of mould, unclean

Bampot bairn – (Scottish) stupid kid

Barmy – (Anglo) Crazy

Erse – (Scottish) Arse, or ass

Alé, Uruki tesorini! – (Italian) Hurray, Uruki darling!

"Che bello! … un testa rosso, cara mia!" – (Italian) How handsome! … a redhead, my dear!

Bambini idiota – (Italian) idiot children

-

Baa-chan – (Japanese) Grandma

Sciocco bambino – (Italian) foolish little boy

Dolcezza mia…Sono il tuo sciavo! -- (Italian) My Sweet…I am your slave!

Sciocco! – (Italian) Fool!

Traditore! Serpente! – (Italian) Traitor! Snake!

Punto e basta! – (Italian) Enough is enough!

Il testa rosso – (Italian) the redhead

Ragazza mia – (Italian) My girl

-

Oi! – (Japanese) Hey!

Kuso, Shikuso – (Japanese) Shit!

Ohayo – (Japanese) Good morning

Onee-chan – (Japanese) Elder sister

-

Breach of Promise suit –(English) a lawsuit seeking monetary damages for one partner breaking a promise to marry. Traditionally, this type of suit was filed by a young woman who was seduced by a man who had promised to wed her, but nowadays, this suit acts more like a palimony suit, and can be filed by either women or men.

-

Musical selection: "Greenwaves" by Secret Garden from their CD "Once in a Red Moon, " copyright 2002, Universal Music AS, Norway.

The parable about the traveler and the tigers is a Buddhist koan attributed to Buddha himself.

/-/-/-/

**Author's Notes: (9-22-05) **Are you happy, Bridge fans? The person you've been clamoring for is BACK! Yes, here comes...Miboshi!

All right, all right, quit throwing things at the screen. I know that you meant Joss. But before I get to that, I believe there are a few other issues to tackle.

But where to begin? Maybe chronological order (for the chapter) would be best.

Soooo then…_Scottish?_ Ahem. All I can say in defense is—see the author note for Ch. 13. :P

Besides, the accents of Namame and Inami are huge tip-offs to the identities of the world famous actors who inspired my physical description of these two seishi. To take part in a discussion of which actors could possibly portray Namame, Inami and Uruki (male and female), just click on the homepage link at the top of my author profile page. I'm posting my thoughts on LiveJournal, aaaand…it's perfectly legal for me to interact with my readers there. ;P

Oh, before I forget, here are my canonical Genbu Kaiden references: Uruki's weapon and Hatsui's habit of hiding in the same basket in which he was held prisoner by a sorceress.

But then, my _fan_-onical reference (to my own work) was Urumiya referring to Tasuki as a "Miko-no-Seishi" (my own term). In the world of Hidden Paths, a Miko no Seishi is more highly honored—and more powerful—than a celestial warrior who (after reincarnation) was not joined with all seven seishi in a god-summoning mission.

Now I have to thank all of you for making it through this _Never-Ending Chapter!_ I _swore_ that I was going to try to keep HP chapters under10,000 words, but there was just too much information leading to future chapters, and I couldn't keep putting off all of this exposition. Sigh. The political situation in Hokkan and the confirmation of the Enemy as being the Swarm were points that needed to be made ASAP. But anyway, you all made it through, so all is good.

And of course, the long-awaited return of Joss. Things are getting both more complex and more interesting, so hang in there, faithful Bridge fans and Emotional Roller Coaster Fanatics! I have to admit, though, writing about Joss and her siblings in the unnamed Midwestern City made me nostalgic for Casting Stones. I _gotta_ get back to that story, especially since I have one-half of the next CS chapter already finished!

Finally, Miboshi. Bit of a shock, eh? The explanation is…

Nope, I'm not gonna tell ya. You have to wait for the next chapter of Hidden Paths to find out! (gives evil cliffhanger-laugh: Bwaaaa-hahahahahaha!)

So next time on Hidden Paths, be ready for—damn, it's hard to tell! I've _got _to get back to the Miboshi question in the Nuriko/Hotohori storyline, and also get back to the Tokyo group, but I _want _to go on to the Action Chapter with the Genbu and Tasuki and Miaka; however whatever happened to Tomite and Hikitsu? (sound of spinning plates crashing) All right, I admit that I have a very good explanation of where Tomite and Hikitsu are; the problem is finding time to write it. Only crazy people have so many plotlines going at once, right, Kris? And Mouse? And Ryuen? ;P

Once again, my deepest gratitude to Purple Mouse and Ryuen for their outstanding efforts in beta-reading.

Even if they made me eliminate the underwater backward somersault by naked Chichiri. :P

On _that_ visual note, I shall bid you:

Ja ne!

Roku


	15. The burden of rule

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters do belong to me (and yes, the dang text as well:P) and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Warning: Excessive chapter length. :P No, really! Oh, and hints of shounen ai (boy/boy love).

Acknowledgment: My deepest gratitude to Purple Mouse for beta-reading this monolithic chapter.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Chapter 15. The Burden of Rule  
**

**Kutou**

The cherry trees drooped beneath their burden of fragrant blossoms, raining pale pink petals onto the tangled grasses below. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of the taller oaks and maples, sending dappled spots of light dancing across the ground, creating an aura of magic throughout the secluded garden.

Nuriko didn't like it.

He didn't like any of it. He didn't like the overgrown, untended look of the Imperial garden. He didn't like the moss-covered statuary that managed to appear decadently erotic even under its green mantle of neglect. He didn't like the quiet, elderly monk who sat near them in an apparent meditative state, supposedly attending them as an honor escort but more likely as armed guard.

Most of all, he didn't like the smile beaming from the face of the dark-haired Seiryuu seishi who strode towards them with a graceful, confident gait. That smile shaded over into something a little too warm and familiar when it was directed at Hotohori, and Nuriko had to suppress a sudden urge to wipe it off the man's face. With his fists.

His one solace was that Hotohori was no more taken in by that smile than he was. She waited beside him, her characteristic serenity replaced with inexplicable tension.

The monk reached them and bowed before them. Hotohori merely nodded coldly, surprising Nuriko with her hostile manner. "Miboshi-sama."

The monk bowed even deeper but upon straightening, flashed Hotohori the same impudent grin as he had in the throne room. "Heika, there is no need to call me 'Lord.' Although my family is of respectable origins, they are hardly noble."

"Nor am I of royal lineage any longer, Miboshi-sama."

"Perhaps, but your nobility is intrinsic, and cannot be taken from you regardless of the circumstances of your birth."

Nuriko nearly growled out loud, hearing Miboshi echo Houki's words of many days ago. How dare the demon monk speak to Hotohori with the familiarity of an old friend? It was time to put a stop to this nonsense.

"You promised us an explanation before you had your servants push us out here." He knew his brusque tone crossed over into rudeness, but he didn't care. "We've waited for the past hour, and at last you've decided to show up. What have you got to say for yourself?"

Miboshi turned his gaze on Nuriko, who found himself caught up in the intensity of that sapphire stare. There was something sharply assessing in that gaze, and something else beneath that—could it be appreciation? To his chagrin, Nuriko felt himself flush in combined anger and self-consciousness.

"Ah, Suzaku no Nuriko, you're every bit as direct as your reputation indicates. But if I may venture to correct your mistaken impression, Master Hotaka is not my servant. Far from it; he is an honored elder master of the Order of Seiryuu, and my personal mentor."

"So you're not the leader of the Seiryuu monks?"

"Only as far as secular matters are concerned. I'm afraid that I'm not close enough to enlightenment to be charged with the spiritual guidance of my brothers." White teeth gleamed in his tanned face, and even the elderly monk gave off waves of amusement, although his expression remained outwardly serene.

Feeling as if he stood on the outside of an inside joke, Nuriko nearly snarled in irritation. "You still haven't answered my question!"

"You still haven't asked any specific question," Miboshi countered smoothly. "But it's too lovely a day to spend arguing in this confined area. There's a charming wood just beyond the gate that will give us privacy from prying eyes and ears; why don't we talk as we walk?"

He bowed once more to Hotohori, who brushed past him with barely concealed contempt. To Nuriko's outrage, the monk openly ogled Hotohori's shapely backside, and upon catching Nuriko's glare, merely winked and went back to ogling. Nuriko stepped quickly between them, determined to shield Hotohori from Miboshi's appreciative leer. It wasn't until fifty paces later that it occurred to him that Miboshi might now be ogling _his_ backside. He whirled around, enraged—only to see the Seiryuu seishi absorbed in quiet conversation with Master Hotaka.

Miboshi nodded politely at the elderly monk, then caught up to the Suzaku seishi in a few strides. "Nuriko-san, as far as your questions are concerned, this seems as good a time as any to begin."

"What are we doing here?" burst out Nuriko. "Why did Taiitsukun summon us here to assist the Emperor, only to have him assassinated before our eyes? Or was that a development she knew nothing about?"

Miboshi met Nuriko's gaze straight on. "I don't know the Oracle's motives or the extent of her knowledge. All I know is what my god instructs, and he instructed me to stabilize the government so that you might take over. As surprising as it is to think of Kutou under the control of Suzaku warriors, our alliance may be our only hope for survival, so we must do our best to trust one another."

"I'm afraid that will be impossible." Hotrohori's normally smooth tones held a ragged edge of emotion. "I will work with you, Lord Miboshi, but I will never trust you."

"Those are harsh words, Lady Hotohori, considering that we've just met."

"I may not have met you in person, but I've seen your handiwork. I have the memories of my former life—and I remember what you'd done." She kept her back to them as she walked ahead, but they saw her hand tremble as she pushed a branch out of her way. "I held his body, you see. They brought him back to the palace for an honorable burial, but before they took him away, I..."

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face them, and Nuriko was surprised to see tears shining in her dark gold eyes. "He was my celestial brother and my friend. He was just a child—but you killed him all the same."

Nuriko felt the punch of shock take his breath away, realizing for the first time that he stood in the presence of the man who had killed Chiriko.

Miboshi had lost his easy smile, but he met her accusing stare unflinchingly. "I have never killed a child, my lady."

"Very well, call him a warrior if that is your excuse! But it doesn't change the fact that you killed him—or forced him to take his own life!"

"I have never brought harm to any Suzaku warrior. Not ever."

Nuriko's frustration boiled over. "How can you stand there and brazenly lie to us? How do you expect us to move on from this if you won't even admit the truth?"

Those dark sapphire eyes fixed calmly on his face. "How old would you say I am, Nuriko-sama?"

Nuriko stared at him. "Er…twenty-seven?"

"Twenty-six, actually. I was just a boy of sixteen during the Kutou-Konan war, luckily living far enough from the capital to keep from being conscripted into the Kutou Army."

"I'm no fool, Lord Miboshi. I know perfectly well that you possess others to keep your soul alive." Hotohori was practically bristling with hostility.

"Well," the smirk suddenly reappeared on Miboshi's face, "I won't deny possessing a few willing bodies in my time, but it was with their consent and for our mutual pleasure. However, if demon possession is what you mean, I've never taken part in that. You see, I'm incapable of such acts, since I'm not a demon."

"Seiryuu Celestial Warrior Miboshi is a demon! Everyone knows that!"

"My predecessor in this position was a demon capable of many evil deeds, including possession of unwilling victims. However, once that dark and twisted soul was cast into hell by your own celestial warrior Chiriko, Taiitsukun and Seiryuu declined to fetch it out again."

"I don't understand. How did you—?" Nuriko spread his hands, confused.

"Just ahead is a lovely little clearing and a spring from an underground source. I'll need some refreshment if I'm going to relate my long and fascinating history to you, so come along."

Hotohori and Nuriko followed in the monk's wake, blinking in confusion. In less than a minute, they reached the clearing, and Nuriko might have been charmed by the tiny sunlit sanctuary had he not been impatient to hear Miboshi's explanation. Instead, he stood tapping his fingers against his elbows when Miboshi gestured them to seat themselves on the thick, cool grass. However, Hotohori accepted Miboshi's offer, sinking to the ground and picking tiny white flowers hidden among the grasses, pressing them between her fingers so that the sweet scent of chamomile drifted through the air.

"Water, Nuriko-sama?" Miboshi offered politely, moving to the spring at the edge of the clearing and producing a small, wooden bowl from the folds of his robe. Nuriko followed, drawn by the tempting burble of the water, only to see the Seiryuu seishi holding out his bowl between his cupped hands as liquid beaded and dripped from between his long fingers. Damn the man! How did he manage to turn the simplest of gestures into an act fraught with sexual suggestiveness?

"I'll get my own," grumbled Nuriko ungraciously, dipping his hand into the water and carrying it to his mouth. Cool and sweet, carrying the scent of the herbs which drooped over the spring, this water was the first wonderful thing that he had encountered in Kutou. After a second draught, he splashed a handful into his heated face, then turned to invite Hotohori to join him…

…only to see her drinking from Miboshi's bowl.

Nuriko hoped that he hadn't growled out loud.

Master Hotaka moved up to refresh himself from the spring, his aura of amusement penetrating even the red haze of fury surrounding Nuriko, so that the Suzaku seishi regained control before committing some act of ill-conceived violence.

"Miboshi-san!" he snapped. "I believe we've waited long enough for your promised explanation!"

The monk smiled at him as he wiped his hands on his robes. "Of course, Nuriko-sama. I merely thought to look to the lady's needs before we embarked on our intercourse."

Nuriko wondered if in any of his lives he had ever wanted to hit someone as badly as he wanted to hit the smirking Seiryuu warrior.

"What kind of monk are you?" he cried out in frustration.

"Not much of a monk at all, I'm afraid. But unfortunately, I haven't been given much of a choice in the matter…and this seems as good a place as any to begin my story." Miboshi patted the ground beside him invitingly. Nuriko seated himself, irritated at the impulse that made him choose a spot safely out of the monk's reach. Nodding politely to Hotohori, Miboshi took a deep breath.

"I've already told you of the fate of the previous Seiryuu no Miboshi. A demon is a poor choice as a celestial warrior, if for no other reason than its unpredictability. Even my patron god, with his all-encompassing desire to win against his brother seikun, was forced to see the demon soul of Miboshi as a liability rather than an asset. So when Suzaku no Chiriko unexpectedly defeated my predecessor, Seiryuu didn't make an effort to regain his warrior's soul. He struck a deal with Taiitsukun in which he would be permitted to choose a new soul for his seventh warrior."

"And you were the best he could find?" Nuriko asked, not bothering to conceal his skepticism.

Miboshi shrugged, thoughtfully rubbing the bump on the bridge of his nose. "You might not believe that a god could make errors, but Seiryuu was misled by circumstance—and by his ardent desire to have his own version of Suzaku's most powerful warrior."

"I don't understand. He already had Tamahome's counterpart—Nakago." Hotohori leaned in, frowning.

"Ah, I see. Even among the Suzaku warriors, you've failed to recognize the most powerful among you, no doubt due to his retiring nature. Not to insult Suzaku no Tamahome; he had prodigious strength of spirit and a dynamic soul, and with your combined strength behind him, he was indeed a match for Nakago. But there was one warrior who could deflect Nakago's attacks on his own; one to whom you all turned for counsel and whose hand guided you throughout your quest—one whose true power remained hidden but would've been exposed had your priestess not succeeded in summoning Suzaku."

"Do you mean Chichiri?"

"Yes, I mean Suzaku no Chichiri. He's the warrior who most impressed Seiryuu, the one whom Seiryuu most desired. But knowing that Suzaku would sooner give up his left wing than bestow his key warrior on Seiryuu, my god decided that the next best thing was to find a Chichiri of his own. He also concluded that since Suzaku no Chichiri was a monk, the best place to search for his counterpart would most likely be a monastery. So that's where he encountered me almost four years ago, living among the Seiryuu monks."

"You were studying to become a monk," Nuriko said, his voice flat with disbelief.

"Well…errr…that's where the error part comes in. I wasn't exactly studying to join the order; in fact, I was hiding out at the monastery because my family had sequestered me there in fear for my life. You see, a local noble was out for my blood. Lord Washio had procured a very pretty young thing as his fourth wife. The trouble was that due to his advanced age, he was less than capable…er, let's just say that she was bored and frustrated and…almost right next door. Unfortunately, once Lord Washio learned of my tutoring of his new wife, he became somewhat incensed with me—although in my opinion he should have been grateful to me for keeping her entertained and content—and put a price on my head, thus necessitating my removal from the immediate area."

"So instead of a monk, Seiryuu got himself a pervert!" burst out Nuriko. "I should've known!"

Hotohori merely put her hand up to her mouth to hide her smile.

"Nevertheless, Seiryuu must have seen something in me that made him think my soul was suitable for that of a celestial warrior. After all, proud as you must be of your own chastity, Nuriko-sama, that is a quality required of the priestess, not her seishi protectors."

Nuriko was rendered speechless with rage, and Hotohori broke in quickly to defuse the situation.

"Yet despite not being a true monk, you were still chosen by Seiryuu. You must have other powers, Miboshi-sama, powers comparable to those of Chichiri."

"I have some abilties, yes, but I'm not fool enough to imagine myself on the same level as Suzaku no Chichiri. You see, once Seiryuu had made his intentions known to me, I traveled for a while in Konan in hopes of learning more about Chichiri—his origins and all. What I learned…" Miboshi smiled ruefully. "Well, let's just say that I'm not on his level, no matter how much training I might undertake. Yet Seiryuu seems to feel that I'm a worthy representative…although we _have_ had our disagreements."

"You talk as if you have frequent conversations with Seiryuu," Hotohori remarked thoughtfully, "which seems strange to me. The only way that Suzaku communicates with us is through Taiitsukun and at times, our priestess. I'd been taught in my last life that the gods do not speak directly to their seishi."

"I wouldn't say that my god and I have frequent or informal conversations. The few times that we have communicated have to do with me being a new soul joining the Seiryuu; after all, I can hardly give my full consent unless I know specifically what he asks of me." Miboshi stood up and wandered back to the spring, kneeling beside it and dipping his hand into the water. "Not that I hold with all of his whims. We had to set some boundaries about two years ago."

In spite of his resentment, Nuriko couldn't restrain his curiosity. "How can you argue with your god?"

Miboshi looked up, his eyes flashing for a moment. "Make me angry enough, and you'll soon find that I care little for my opponent's status, be he god, demon, or the Lord of Hell himself. In his desire to mold me into another Chichiri, Seiryuu overstepped the line. One day, as I was taking a drink, a branch flew out of the water straight at my face. Luckily, I had the reflexes to dodge enough so that instead of taking out my eye, it merely broke my nose." He gingerly touched the bump on the bridge of his nose.

Hotohori gasped. "He wanted you to lose your eye? But that has nothing to do with Chichiri's powers!"

"True enough, my lady. It was Seiryuu's cosmetic preference, that's all."

Nuriko snorted. "All the same, why would you blame Seiryuu for that incident? Branches often get caught in river currents, and if the water is rough enough, they can seem to fly out. It could have been coincidence."

"Except that it wasn't a river, Nuriko-sama. I was drinking from a quiet spring like this one." Miboshi laughed at the Suzaku seishi's horrified expressions. "Don't worry; I had no intention of spending the rest of my days dodging mysterious flying objects. With my nose dripping blood, I shouted up to the heavens, to Seiryuu himself. I told him that if he wanted me to be an _exact_ copy of Suzaku no Chichiri, I'd make sure to swear allegiance to Suzaku as well, and then he could find himself reduced to six seishi while Suzaku had eight. Although I received no reply, I believe that he saw reason in my argument, since there were no more celestial attacks on my features."

"But now, instead of being one of seven, you are all alone." Hotohori's voice was soft with sympathy, making Nuriko scowl at how quickly she was warming to this new version of Miboshi.

"You needn't feel sorry for me, my lady. After all, how can I complain when I now have the two loveliest Suzaku seishi as my comrades-in-arms?" Miboshi grinned at Nuriko's infuriated flush, but the grin faded as his tone grew serious. "I'd like to spend more time out here doing nothing more strenuous than enjoying your company; unfortunately, time is the one luxury we don't have. As much as I hate to leave this beautiful place, we must return to the palace to discuss our strategy.

"Somehow, some way, we three must find the means to bring an entire country back to life."

/-/-/-/

The huge chamber that Miboshi had led them to was at least as large as Hotohori's throne room in Eiyou, but instead of tasteful elegance, this room was designed with sleek efficiency. The Map Room, Miboshi had called it, but it was so much more than that, with large tables holding topographical models of the countries of the ShiJinTenChiSho, each rendered in exquisite detail. Along one wall were long-abandoned dovecotes that once held messenger pigeons. _Probably ended up in a pie,_ thought Nuriko moodily.

Master Hotaka rested quietly in a corner of the room, apparently caught up in deep meditation, although Nuriko didn't doubt that he was very much alert and aware of all that was going on. Hotohori stood looking over the largest table, which supported a model of all four contiguous countries of the ShiJin. She ran her fingers wonderingly across ridged mountains and glassy seas.

"It's unbelievable!" she exclaimed. "Is it accurate?"

"To the smallest detail," Miboshi answered in a matter-of-fact tone. "Would Nakago tolerate anything less than perfection as he planned his strategies? If one is to successfully invade one's neighbors, one needs to know the lay of the land."

"We wouldn't know," muttered Nuriko as he wandered to a smaller adjacent table. "It wasn't Konan's policy to overthrow adjacent governments." His voice caught in his throat as he recognized the layout before him. "This is Eiyou!"

Hotohori swiftly joined him. "Look, the Imperial Palace! The road winding up the hill, all of the doors and balconies and…dear Suzaku, it even has the small cellar door through which I used to escape to the Imperial Wood!" She stopped, suddenly realizing the significance of the model. "Oh gods," she whispered. "Nakago knew the smallest details of the capital city and palace defenses. Had he not lost interest in conquering Konan on the cusp of victory—"

"The Imperial seat would have been destroyed, the Seishuku Dynasty ended, and the country of Konan even now plunged into poverty and misery so deep, she would be nearly unsalvageable. Just like Kutou." Miboshi's voice was grim.

Hotohori looked up at him. "You're not as superficial as you pretend, Miboshi-sama. The destruction of your country tears at your heart."

He turned his face away from them so that his dragon locks hid his expression, but Nuriko saw him swallow hard. "As would yours, Lady Hotohori." His voice was husky, but he attempted a cheeky smile. "I would hardly make an effective Seiryuu seishi if I cared little for Kutou, would I? And if Kutou falls, Konan will be next. Thus, our partnership. I will confess one thing to you, Lady Hotohori. I didn't regret cutting the throat of the previous Emperor…not at all. He has much to answer for in the next world."

"He wasn't the first cold-hearted tyrant—"

"But I intend him to be the last." He walked over to join Nuriko at the table which held the model of Kutou. "It won't be an easy task. Here…" he pointed to a green valley to the east of the capital, "here lie the holdings of another corrupt noble. But Lord Kuroda is a much more formidable adversary than even the previous Emperor. He watches and waits, and he will make his move when he is certain of victory. Therefore, we must keep him uncertain."

Nuriko sighed. "Are we going to spend all of our time fighting off takeover attempts? How can we hope to battle the Enemy or even make the slightest difference in Kutou's decline if we're tied up in stupid power struggles?"

"You've succinctly pointed out the problems in toppling any regime, tyrannical or not. It's much easier to take than to hold, yet hold is what we must do. We can't succeed, however, without the support of the general populace. And therein lies our problem, because the people are so decimated by famine and illness, they're not likely to care much about politics."

"So we make politics about food and medicine." Hotohori leaned over the table, studying the representation of Kutou as if it would yield up its secrets to her. "Before we can do that, we must find out how to obtain those supplies. Even if the other countries were willing or able to help, it would take too long for that help to arrive. The people of Kutou need food immediately, so we'll have to look within the country—and tax all of the richest nobles. We'll levy taxes to be paid in bushels of wheat and rice and other produce; gold is of less use to us now."

Nuriko opened his mouth to protest, but Miboshi spoke first. "The nobles will rebel. They'll band together to overthrow you, labeling you as a foreigner and accusing you of stealing the wealth of Kutou, little though it might be."

"Not if they get something in return." An elegant finger drew a line from the east coast of Kutou to the capital city in the west. "If I remember the lessons of my Imperial advisers correctly, in order to protect their individual interests, trade between the holdings of Kutou nobles is so heavily taxed that it is almost unfeasible."

"You're right," Miboshi nodded. "Even now, they're too proud to be the first to give in to practical needs; some holdings have mineral wealth but are starving because of lack of crops, while other noble houses watch their homes fall to ruin because of lack of building materials, and at the same time let full storehouses of grain rot from disuse."

"So we'll issue an Imperial decree forbidding taxation _within_ Kutou, thus removing the need for the nobles to compromise their pride. They'll be forced to trade with one another, all the while grumbling that it's the fault of the Imperial government."

"But how will that appease the nobles?" asked Nuriko, honestly confused. "It sounds to me that you've removed one source of their income, then taxed them on the rest."

Hotohori smiled at him. "You're absolutely right. The nobility will only do what profits them, so we have to increase their profits. We'll do that by establishing an Imperial trade route between the east and west of Kutou, with security from bandits and raiding parties. The nobles will be able to get goods as easily from the farthest flung ports of Kutou as from their own estates, which in turn gives them access to sea trade with merchants from Sairou, Konan, and Hokkan. They can send entire caravans of goods back and forth with little of their own expense for security over land. And we'll guarantee their safety by assigning the current Imperial troops to protect those trade routes."

Nuriko's eyes widened in comprehension. "That will get the soldiers out of the capital city, and spread them out so that they can't stage a takeover!"

"We'll give them uniforms, rank, titles, and salary, and the ability to exercise their militaristic aggressions on hardened criminals. They'll be in battle every week. In a very short time, the nobles will see their wealth increase despite our new taxes, and we will at the same time neutralize a possible threat to our government."

Miboshi and Nuriko exchanged shocked gazes.

"She's brilliant!" burst out the Seiryuu seishi. "She's absolutely bloody brilliant! Excuse my language, my lady, but you're a walking, talking miracle!"

Hotohori laughed and blushed. "It's only a plan; we haven't carried it out yet."

"But it's a workable plan!" Nuriko enthused, too excited to be jealous of Miboshi for once. "I always knew that you would've been our greatest Emperor!"

Hotohori's smile faltered for a moment, but she forced it back in place. "Thank you, Nuriko. Your high opinion means a great deal to me."

Nuriko frowned, sensing some undercurrent but unsure of what exactly went wrong. Miboshi moved between them, bowing deeply to the young woman.

"And I know that you will be the greatest Empress that Kutou has ever seen—perhaps the greatest Empress in all of the history of the ShiJin."

"I'm not an Empress," Hotohori protested. "I'm just another seishi."

"But to the people of Kutou, you will be their savior. What greater title than that?"

"We'll _all_ be their saviors, all of us together," Hotohori corrected him, but there was real warmth in her eyes as she smiled at him.

Nuriko stood quietly to the side, wondering why, despite the fact that he could touch her merely by reaching out, he felt as if Hotohori was slipping further away than at the end of his last life. For a moment, wrapped up in his own thoughts, he lost the thread of the conversation, but came awake as Hotohori described her plans to distribute government food to the populace.

"…have to find a way to keep the supplies flowing to people in the cities and towns and the countryside. We'll establish central supply depots where people can just take what they need, and we'll find out as we go how often we need to restock."

"You can't do that."

Hotohori stared at Nuriko, surprised. "Why not?"

"You need to have a census or a citizen identification tag, and you have to limit what you give to each family group, based on number of members. You can't just let people rush forward and take whatever they want."

"These people are starving, Nuriko! This is hardly the time to institute procedural obstacles—"

Nuriko slammed his hand down on a table. "This is _exactly_ the time! What you propose will result in complete anarchy! The dishonest will take more than they need, then sell it at inflated prices on the black market. The rich will find ways to get their agents to take what they want, and the poor will get less than they need and go on dying in the streets."

"So what do you propose?" Hotohori snapped.

"A citizen registry based on their last census, whenever it was—"

"Just before the war," interjected Miboshi quietly. "Nakago wanted to know how many men he could conscript for the army."

"Fine, the census will be ten years out of date, but it's better than nothing. We can use trustworthy merchants to act as government agents, and update the information from surviving family members. We issue markers to family groups and allow them to redeem them for grain and produce—contingent on them exchanging it for labor in the Imperial farm fields or workshops, perhaps an hour per family per day."

Hotohori's eyes went wide with shock. "These people are weak with hunger, and you expect them to work?"

"Yes, I do." Nuriko's tone remained cool. "They might be miserably poor, but they're still human beings, once proud farmers and traders and merchants. If you expect to create a work and military force from their numbers, you have to give them back their dignity. Giving them free handouts will assuage their current hunger but will cause trouble in the long run, encouraging indolence and humiliating the industrious. If you require even a small token of labor from each family, you'll give them back their sense of worthiness. When they receive their food, they can say, 'We earned this by an honest day's work.'"

"But what of the orphans in the street? Should they starve because they have no family to pledge for them?"

"No, they will have to work as well."

"You're delusional! I won't let you push mere children into slavery for the sake of your organized labor plan!"

Nuriko lost his temper. "You're the one who's delusional! You think that all the problems of the world are solved by the condescending rich bestowing gifts on the poor! It never once occurred to you that even the poorest among us could take pride in their work." By this time he'd started shouting. "What of your seishi brothers? Do you think that the rich provided for our needs? Don't you think that Tasuki labored in the fields as a child? What of Tamahome? Could he have accepted free handouts all of his life without losing his fierce pride? What of _me?_ Wasn't I taken into concubinage because my family connections weren't powerful enough to deny your soldiers when they ransacked the villages for girls?"

Silence fell throughout the room. Hotohori looked stunned, while Nuriko stood before her with fisted hands, panting with exertion and rage.

"Personally, I think that you both are correct." Both seishi startled at the mild voice, obviously forgetting Miboshi's presence in the room.

The Seiryuu seishi grinned at their discomfiture. "I agree with Lady Hotohori that all of the children must be fed as soon as possible, and I agree that field work is not the best option for their weakened condition. However, I also agree with Nuriko-sama that work can give them a sense of purpose, so I propose that all children be required to work at least one hour per day…by attending school. Classes will be held in small groups in the city streets, in the town squares, and in the fields. Children will be given a full bowl of food when they arrive, then be expected to remain for an hour afterward as they learn to read and write and compute. Once the hour is up, the next part of their wage will be paid—a small bag of grain to be taken home to their families. They will be wage-earners for whatever family they might have, they will get a minimum of one full meal a day, and they will be the most educated population we have ever had."

"That…that seems fair," Nuriko admitted grudgingly, trying not to show how impressed he was with Miboshi's plan.

Hotohori was less restrained. "It's a brilliant plan, Miboshi-sama! You have my sincerest admiration."

Miboshi bowed and smiled. "Thank you, my lady. Now may I suggest that we retire to chambers that my brethren have prepared for us? We have long hours of discussion ahead of us, and we should rest so that we're at our best tomorrow."

Hotohori bowed gratefully and prepared to follow Master Hotaka out of the room, but paused as she passed by Nuriko, who stood with eyes averted. She touched his sleeve gently.

"You've always had a keen grasp of the problems of governing, and I'd almost forgotten how much I'd come to depend on you, Nuriko. You have my sincerest admiration, and you always will. I'm sorry if my clumsiness in expressing myself ever led you to believe otherwise."

The warmth in her golden eyes shone out at him, and he stood transfixed in place long after she'd left the room. He couldn't help turning to Miboshi with a look of honest confusion.

"I thought that I was way out of line. I thought that she'd be furious with me!"

"And now you know that there's nothing a woman respects more than a man who stands up to her and treats her as an equal. Good night, Nuriko-sama. Sleep well."

Miboshi bowed once more and swept out of the room.

/-/-/-/

**Tokyo**

Yui drew back the curtain and stared past silvered beads of rain to the traffic rushing past thirty stories below. For a moment, she pictured herself surging through the window to magically take flight, spiraling gently down until she reached the street. Jumping inside one of the boxy yellow cabs, she would flee this insane existence of apocalyptic monsters and violent death. For just one moment, she imagined the tempting oblivion of ignorance, the bliss of being part of the defenseless masses instead of one of the chosen defenders.

A tinge of yearning entered her voice as she addressed the rivulets of water crisscrossing the thick glass. "Tell me what to do."

The figure standing behind her stiffened imperceptibly before forcing himself back into a casual slouch. "You know that I can't do that. I can't make this decision for you."

She turned abruptly to face him, her features twisted with desperation. "Won't you at least advise me? What would _you_ do if you were me?"

"I'm not you, Yui. Anything I could tell you wouldn't necessarily—"

"Apply to my exact situation, yes, I've heard that a hundred times from you, Tetsuya!" Yui glared up at his inscrutable, shaded eyes. "I thought that maybe just this once…" She stopped, visibly gritting her teeth. "Never mind. I don't know what I was thinking to ask your opinion, when you've never before…Excuse me, I need to get some air."

She grabbed her coat, nearly running through the condo on her way to the elevator, ignoring Mitsukake's startled look and Touki's serene nod. Pushing through the chrome and glass lobby door, she gasped as the damp wind hit her in the face but kept moving swiftly down the street, ignoring the squeal of brakes behind her. She was already two blocks away from the apartment when she heard a breathless call.

"Yui! Slow down! Yui, wait, please!"

Part of her wanted to keep going, moving deeper into the night until she disappeared into the darkness, alone with her frustration and fear and a weary, bitter feeling that she recognized as grief.

"Yui, _please!"_

However, she wasn't a thoughtless fifteen-year-old anymore. She was old enough to realize that someone would end up paying for her self-indulgence; most likely, the someone who was currently chasing her down the street. He didn't deserve that. If she left him behind, he would be lost in a strange land, vulnerable to the real, present-day dangers of a modern city.

So she stopped and turned around, waiting for him to cautiously dash across the intersection. His grin of open joy as he joined her softened something in her heart—how long had it been since someone was so glad to see her?

"Thank you!" he gasped, his ponytail dripping and green eyes shining under the misted halo of the streetlamp. "I was afraid you hadn't heard me, and I…well, I'm not sure I remember the way back."

"How did you manage the elevator, Chiriko? I expect that would've been your first obstacle."

"Yes, it would've—but I've been practicing. I wanted to learn how to use the elevated-box, so I was practicing going up and down by pushing the buttons. I had just opened the doors when I saw you leave the palace."

Yui laughed in spite of herself. "It's not a palace, Chiriko; it's just a building where a lot of people live."

"But they all live in such luxury! Every person in that place has their own indoor toilet and instant hot water, right?" He gazed off into the rain. "We never had anything so useful, and my family had been fairly wealthy."

Yui stared at him, struck by their differing values. She'd never thought of herself as particularly wealthy, but compared to the primitive conditions in the ShiJin, she enjoyed everyday luxuries that even the Emperor of Kutou had never even dreamed of.

Chiriko intercepted her stare, and blushed. "I'm sorry for my inappropriate words, Yui. In this world, I'm stupid, and I talk about indelicate things—"

"No, you're not. You're neither stupid or indelicate. You're…" she paused, searching for the right word, "…you're charming—in this world or any other."

He blushed up to his hairline, but Yui didn't regret her words. He _was_ charming, with his boyish enthusiasm and innocent honesty, not to mention his unselfconscious attractiveness.

"So where are we going?" Chiriko asked as he took her arm.

Yui started guiltily. "Aren't you going to drag me back to the condo?"

"Why would I do that? You seemed as if you intended to go somewhere, and I just hoped that you might allow me to accompany you."

"You make me sound decisive and in control." Yui's lips trembled. "The truth is that I had no idea where I was going; I just needed to…get away."

"Even better. Now we can do whatever we want, instead of having to go any place in particular. Is there anything you'd like—?"

She shook her head. "No! I don't know!"

"Then I'll make a choice. I'd really like a cup of tea, Yui. Are there any inns around here?"

"No inns, but I think I know a teashop that's open late." Feeling the tension unwind from her neck, Yui finally smiled. "You know, I think I like your choice. A cup of tea and some almond biscuits sound perfect right now."

Twenty minutes later, they were seated in a quiet corner of a small, traditional tea shop, its shoji screens, simple flower arrangements, and tatami mats pleasing to the eye and harmonious to the mind. A soft door chime quietly announced the comings and goings of the few customers who sought the shop's warm shelter on a rainy night. Over fragrant cups of jasmine tea, Chiriko spoke cheerfully of all the marvels he had seen since his arrival—the speeding cars, the flameless lights, the moving pictures on large flat screens—and Yui laughed at his wild guesses about the mechanics behind them.

She knew that he was deliberately coming up with outrageous theories just to entertain her, but it felt wonderful to giggle and joke and chatter like any other normal young woman. It was nice to pretend, at least for a while, that her cares and concerns were no different than those of the young couple who had just exited into the night.

But as her fourth serving of tea cooled in its tiny porcelain cup, she knew that it was time she stopped running. It was time to decide her fate alone.

At that moment, a hand reached across the table and warmly gripped hers. She cast her glance downward to hide the sudden tears, yet couldn't help clasping her own fingers tightly around his.

"I guess you know." Her voice was husky with emotion.

"Not everything. But you can tell me…if you wish."

"You remember what Touki-san said when we brought him back to the condo. He said that there were two ways to guard the book's portal against the nightmare beasts' attempts to come through. The first way he described to everyone in the room—"

"Yes, I remember. He could put enough ofuda and enchantments around the book to seal it completely shut. It would be strong enough to keep it sealed—as long as we never opened the book and as long as he kept casting enchantments."

"But the second method…he told it to me alone." Yui stared down into her cup as if she could read her fortune in the leaves. "He seems like a good man," she said at last. "I've always liked him and trusted his judgment."

"I like him, too. He reminds me of Chichiri in many ways…and not only because they're both monks. He has the same kind of calm honesty; you know that he's telling you the truth, no matter how hard it might be for you or him."

"Yes…no matter how much you wish he was lying. And gods, how I wish—!" She gave a small, bitter laugh. "There I go again, being selfish and cowardly and—"

"No, you're not! You're terrified, and that's something very different. But Yui, I can only help if you tell me straight out what he said—as simply and directly as you can."

"It's my life," Yui replied dully. "Touki told me that the only way to keep the book completely under our control and yet use it to our advantage is if I allow him to weave my ki—my life force—together with the book. We're already partially joined, because I'm the Priestess of Seiryuu as well as the original reader of the Suzaku-Seiryuu arc, but Touki would bind me to the book in a much more intricate way."

She lifted her eyes to Chiriko's, her own filled with a kind of sad hope. "We could read the book this way. We could see everything that's going on in the ShiJin and perhaps even into the stronghold of the Enemy itself. I could find Miaka again," she whispered.

"But there's a price, isn't there?"

"Yes. I'll be the sentinel at the gates. I'll be the first to know if the beasts are trying to break through…because I'll be the first one they see." She winced under Chiriko's suddenly painful grip. "No, I won't be unprotected. Touki believes that with the help of my Priestess' ki, he can control and hold off the beasts with his spells…he _thinks_ he can, but he won't know until—"

"—the beasts try to come through," finished Chiriko grimly. "So if you agree, you'll be our test case, and if you refuse, we'll still be able to seal off the book by the first method…"

"But we'll be blind and unable to help any of our colleagues."

They sat together in silence, their fingers clasping convulsively around one another's. Finally Yui pulled back her hand.

"I know the right decision. I understand what I have to do. I…I guess I was just trying to put it off, and maybe I was grieving a little for what might—" She gasped out a sob. "I only wish that I was a seishi instead of a priestess. I wish that I had a little of your courage!"

_"My_ courage?" Chiriko's eyes widened in surprise. "I think that you have the wrong seishi here. I was the smallest and weakest of the Suzaku, remember? All of my memories of that time were of being scared in one way or another. If I wasn't terrified for my life, I was scared of not fitting in with the rest."

Yui's tone was hesitant. "But you weren't scared last night in the library, when you deliberately drew off that beast so that Mitsukake could kill it."

He laughed. "That's true, 'scared' wasn't the word—I was flat out heart-stoppingingly _terrified!_ Did you see how fast I ran? I think I could've outrun the best horse in Hotohori's Imperial stable!"

Yui couldn't help smiling. "I don't believe it. You seemed so in control, part of the plan."

"I _was_ part of the plan. But do you know what the scariest part was?" His voice softened. "Those few moments when I felt like I was all alone out there. Logically, I knew that Mitsukake was waiting to defend me, but in those first moments, it was just me and the beast. Alone."

Chiriko met Yui's eyes straight on. "It was terrifying, yet at the same time, I felt a strong undercurrent of sadness. Loneliness more than anything, I guess. But then Mitsuskake stepped out and whoosh! Just like that, I was safe. And I realized that I shouldn't have doubted him.

"You're not alone, either, Yui." He reached across the table and claimed her other hand, so that he now held both in his strong, warm grip. "It's not like the last time, when Nakago kept you isolated. You have Keisuke and Tetsuya, and Touki and Mitsukake, and…me. And I promise you, on my honor as a Suzaku seishi, that I will not abandon you or leave you alone. Not even at our darkest hour."

Unable to speak because of the lump in her throat, she sent him a trembling, grateful smile. It didn't make sense that his words had touched her so deeply. If their darkest hour came to pass, they were all as good as dead. Dead was dead, whether you had people with you or whether you were all alone.

Yet for some reason, she was suddenly filled with hope.

/-/-/-/

Less than an hour later, they were all gathered together in the kitchen of the condo, which Mitsukake had dubbed "The War Room." Yui looked around at each of their faces flickering in the candlelight: Mitsukake serious and focused; Keisuke uncharacteristically subdued, his red-rimmed eyes attesting to his worry over his sister and grief over the loss of his brother-in-law; Tetsuya withdrawn and enigmatic behind his shades; and Chiriko, calmly resolute, returning her look with a subtle smile of reassurance.

Swirls of incense twisted their way sinuously to the ceiling, as Touki, clad in his Shinto robes, softly chanted prayers and occasionally tapped a small, shimmering gong in accompaniment. Yui stood facing him, clad in the traditional white kimono and red hakama of a Japanese miko, her hands folded against each other inside the voluminous white sleeves.

She tried not to twitch nervously as incongruous thoughts kept racing through her agitated mind. Who would ever have thought that Tetsuya's sleekly modern, computerized kitchen could be so quickly converted to a credible facsimile of a Shinto shrine? Her glance took in the man in the center of the tableau: Touki, with his shaven head and dark, winglike eyebrows sweeping up towards his scalp, had somehow shed his everyday familiarity and now appeared like a figure out of myth: powerful, mystical, and wise.

In that moment, she almost thought that she could envision another mythical figure standing beside him. The smoke from the incense seemed to twist strangely, forming the outline of a schoolgirl trailing long braids and an old fashioned knee-length skirt: Oosugi Suzuno, the Priestess of Byakko. Yui blinked, and the figure vanished within the halo of candlelight—just an illusion in her mind, yet Yui could almost feel thin, shining threads running from herself, Priestess of Seiryuu and Genbu, to Touki, spiritual heir of the Priestess of Byakko. Beside her stood the warriors of Suzaku, ready to stand in her defense.

There _were_ threads binding them together, Yui realized—they, the representatives of the Four Gods on this planet. She could almost see the threads intertwined between them, spinning forth in a silver line to connect to the book that lay beneath intricately-inscribed ofuda.

Touki's words increased in intensity, and suddenly Yui felt something pull in her chest. She nearly panicked but met Chiriko's eyes. _You mustn't fight it. You must give in to it and allow yourself to be joined._ She drew a deep breath and forced herself to relax, uncurling her fists inside her sleeves.

Another pull, as if a line were being attached to her torso.

_Accept it. Give in to it._

Finally, one more pull, and it was done. She felt herself woven through with fine lines of incredible strength, invisible threads running through her body and binding her tightly to some object she couldn't see. She pushed down the rising feeling of entrapment, forcing herself to take deep, even breaths.

_I accept this. I will be one with this._

Her gaze was drawn to the book where it lay on the countertop, and to her eyes it seemed almost if it pulsed in time with her heart. As if it had control of her.

But if it had control of her, she had equal control of it.

_You're mine,_ she thought, and a wave of triumph rushed through her. With that came an accompanying wave of warmth, and she felt as if she were swept up in a vast ocean, a universe spread out beneath her wondering gaze.

"Yui?"

"She's held in the grasp of the gods now. Be patient; she'll return."

She could hear their voices, clear though distant, but she was too entranced to respond, caught up in the universe through which she swam, gliding as swift and effortlessly as a bird through air. Mountains capped with snow passed beneath her fingertips, while vast deserts spread their golden sands like shining skirts. A moving cloud of dust marked the path of a herd of wild ponies, while vast fins broke the surface of sun-dappled seas.

She reached down with her mind, seeking beings like herself, and heard the busy murmurs of a million humans as they loved, fought, wept, and died. She felt the marvel of a new mother as she gazed upon her firstborn, then shrank away as she touched the cold, murderous thoughts of a slaver.

That coldness seemed to swirl up from behind him, snaking between some minds while enveloping others. She grew aware of the wrongness of these thoughts, the alien darkness more opaque than those of the coldest human killer. They emanated not from the universe below her but from the darkness beyond, and she watched with helpless dread as it sent tiny tendrils of evil to take root across her entire land.

Suddenly the darkness reared up, forming into a twisting, amorphous shape with faceted eyes and row upon row of jagged metal teeth. It coalesced into a snakelike form, turning its glittering, inhuman gaze to her and lunging forward.

She fell back, screaming—and felt her face taken in a firm grasp at temples and chin. "_Kaerinasai!_ Open your eyes, Yui!"

She grabbed at Touki's robes, her eyes filling with tears of horror. "It's coming! It's _coming!"_

They all turned to look at the book, and saw the ofuda seals slowly darkening, curling at the edges as if they were burning. A tiny wisp of black mist began twisting up from the closed pages of the book.

Touki pulled Yui to her feet. "Yui, I need you to open your spirit to me. You're joined with the book, so the only way for me to close the portal is with your help!"

"I c-can't!" she whimpered, her teeth chattering as she tried to pull away from him. "I can't! We have to g-get _away!"_

"It's too late, Yui! We can't run fast or far enough! We either close the portal _now,_ or—"

"Let me go!" she wailed, terror blinding her to all reason. Suddenly she stumbled back, Touki's grip broken. She looked up to see Chiriko standing between them.

"_Gomen nasai,_ Touki-sama, but we're losing time! Cast more ofuda on the book to slow them down. Mitsukake, get your broadsword now. Keisuke, Tetsuya, get her out of here, and _run._ _Keep_ running and don't look back; we'll hold them off as long as we can!"

Tetsuya was already dragging her toward the elevator as Keisuke threw a coat across her shoulders. She looked back to see Touki rapidly casting the ofuda at the book, trying desperately to keep pace as they shriveled and blackened on contact with the book. Mitsukake watched the growing mist with an expression of calm absorption, his broadsword angled for a killing stroke. Only Chiriko looked up at her as she left, smiling reassuringly when he caught her eye.

They were going to die.

They were going to die trying to protect her, but in the end it would be pointless, because _she_ was the one the beasts wanted most. She and Miaka. And Miaka's warriors and Suzuno's grandson would die defending her, because she didn't have the courage to stand with them and fight.

Enough of this.

She broke out of Tetsuya's grasp and ran back to the others. "Touki-san! Touki-san, I'm ready now! I'm _here!"_

Touki didn't waste a moment, pulling Yui before him as they both faced the book, and placing her arms along his arms so that her hands rested on top of his. "Follow the motions of my hands, Yui. Follow them and open your mind to me!"

Yui tried to concentrate on Touki's gestures and muttered prayers but found her mind hopelessly ensnared with panic and desperation.

"You must release control, Yui! Open yourself, and we'll do this together."

She tried to relax but found herself watching the tendrils of black mist with fascinated horror. It was almost hypnotic, the way the tendrils pulsated and twisted, advancing a little more with each passing second. Beneath that mist lay the book, the universe that had just bound itself to her. She felt the stark beauty and warm vulnerability of her adopted land resting inside her heart. But the darkness wanted more than just the ShiJin.

It wanted her world, as well.

"Abomination!" She didn't realize the curse had burst from her lips. "Bastard desecrator of a thousand worlds!" Her hands lifted off Touki's, and began drawing mystical patterns of their own. "You can't have it!" She walked toward the rising darkness, her hands moving before her. "Get out of my world! GET _OUT!"_

A fountain of light erupted from her hands, engulfing the book in a spectral conflagration. The entire area seemed to explode with color and light, while a high, keening scream whistled through the air. It increased in volume to an otherwordly shriek—then abruptly disappeared. The ball of light flashed blindingly bright before vanishing abruptly in its turn.

Blinking away the spots before their eyes, the stunned witnesses stared at the book lying quiet and intact upon the countertop. All eyes then turned to Yui, who stood steadily in place, her eyes wide but focused.

Touki cleared his throat. "Would anyone find it overly self-conscious if I said that I felt a bit superfluous just now?"

That broke the spell, and they laughed with the hysterical giddiness of people who had just escaped certain death. Keisuke, still slightly pale with shock, put the kettle on with shaking hands, while Mitsukake placed the broadsword in a convenient corner. Chiriko strolled casually over to Yui and flicked an imaginary piece of dust from her shoulder.

"So that's what mikos do," he said and gave her a wink. She grasped his hands and laughed until she cried, her joy and relief spreading to almost everyone in the room. The kitchen grew loud as everyone started talking at once, trying to analyze exactly what had happened and the meaning of Yui's strange words.

No one noticed when Tetsuya quietly left the room

**/-/-/-/**

**Hokkan – Southwest border**

Two figures on horseback trotted through narrow, winding canyons between sheer cliff walls. They stopped intermittently, the silver-haired horseman using a wax crayon to mark lines on crumpled sheets of vellum, while the other looked around for landmarks…or witnesses. Every so often, their voices would rise in an argument as they indicated the few distinguishing features in their narrow landscape, but then drop as they nervously paused and listened for hoofbeats.

The first man finally tucked the paper away in his jacket, then wiped trickles of sweat from his face with a cloth, carefully lifting his eyepatch to reach the dampness beneath.

The other man scowled at him. "You don't have to wear that stupid thing right now. I'm the only one here."

Hikitsu scowled right back. "You don't have to wear that stupid hat, either. It's hotter than midsummer in these damn canyons. If I didn't know better, I'd say we were in Konan instead of Hokkan."

Tomite clutched protectively at the fur hat perched on his dark, damp hair. "Leave my hat out of this. I can take the heat." He swiped his sleeve across the rivulets running down his face.

Hikitsu snorted, then spurred his mount ahead, leaving intermittent grumbles such as "…pigheaded…slug-brained…" in his wake.

"How long do we have to keep doing this?" Tomite shouted after him.

"Until we have a clear idea of the best way through the canyon maze. I don't like being stuck in a place I can't get out of."

Suddenly a wave of dizziness swept over Tomite, and he clutched at his mount's mane to keep from falling. He reined in and, abandoning his pride, removed his hat. That action relieved some of his heat-induced nausea, but the air was still heavy and thick in his lungs. The world shifted sideways, and he would have plunged out of the saddle except for a steadying hand.

"Get down!" the voice said harshly. "Get down before I knock you down, you ass!"

Tomite slid out of his saddle and felt himself pushed into a seated position against one of the canyon walls. His head was pushed down until it was rested on his drawn-up knees, and a stream of cool water suddenly splashed over the back of his neck. He shuddered and gasped at the shock, but his nausea instantly faded away.

Hikitsu dropped down beside him and thrust the waterskin in his face. "Drink."

He drank gratefully, feeling as if every part of him was absorbing the fresh, cool water and uncurling from the parched misery of this day. Taking care to leave enough for his partner, he handed the skin back to Hikitsu. "Thanks. I don't know what I would've done without—"

"Probably died of self-induced heat stroke," snapped Hikitsu, before taking a long drink from the skin and pushing it back at Tomite.

They sat in silence for a moment—an edgy, uncomfortable silence.

"Why do you have to be such an ass?" Hikitsu finally burst out.

"I was about to ask you the same thing!"

"I'm not the one who's too stubborn to use common sense! Why don't you ever listen to me? I told you that the canyons were hot!"

"Why don't you ever listen to _me?_ I told you that it was a bad idea to come here!"

"Why should I listen to you?"

"I'm the elder this time!"

"Well, I'm better-looking!"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing!"

They glared at one another for a moment—then reluctantly grinned.

"You really are an ass, you know that?" Hikitsu needled again.

"Takes one to know one."

"Oh, that's really original. Would you mind if I wrote that down and used it sometime?"

"Go right ahead. I'm happy to loan you some of my conversational skills. Might make you want to, I dunno, actually talk to me sometime."

Another uncomfortable silence.

"I talk to you all the time."

Tomite picked up a pebble and threw it against the opposite wall. "Yeah, in a total of two different ways: terse or surly."

"You're not so forthcoming yourself."

"Not anymore. After the first two weeks of talking to you and getting only grunts as replies, I quit trying to rope that particular pony. No point, since you're obviously pissed at me or the universe or both."

Hikitsu shot a glance at his companion. Tomite's normally cheerful countenance was drawn and weary, his brown eyes looking resigned instead of hopeful…and as much as Hikitsu would've liked to have blamed it on the heat, he knew that he held most of the responsibility.

_Little brother, what have I done?_

He almost said the words aloud, but a familiar image rose before his eyes, an image that haunted him night and day.

_Blood on the snow. He was running, running, all the while knowing that he was too late, because the blood kept spreading and Tomite wasn't moving, and the world crashed down into those colors of red and white and black._

He couldn't bear it again. He knew that he must not have survived much longer, for he had hardly any memories after that moment, but he would never forget that raging despair, that helpless grief, that agonizing sense of failure.

Of what came after, he had no real knowledge until he awoke reincarnated in the body of a young boy. All he had were those searing memories, too dark and bitter and adult for him to handle, and the sudden appearance of joyful brown eyes, an equally small hand grasping his and crying out, "Hikitsu!"

He'd jerked his hand back as if burned. _Not again, _he thought. _I won't go through that again._ So he'd pushed Tomite away and insisted on being called by his given name instead of his seishi name. He'd pretended not to remember, because he didn't _want_ to remember.

What irony that Taiitsukun had forced their memories out into the open. Their only means of defense, true, but also the burden of a past he never wanted. But he sensed that there was something else, something he wasn't allowed to remember. At times he felt disturbing chills along his neck, leaving him with an inexplicable distaste of enclosed spaces, cold tombs with walls of ice that held you bound as both prisoner and guard, eternally trapped, eternally waiting…

He blinked and shuddered, suddenly grateful for the heat reflected off the limestone cliffs.

"You all right?"

The waterskin was thrust before him, and he took it gratefully, using the act of drinking to pull himself together. By the time he handed it back to Tomite, he was able to look his fellow seishi in the eye.

No, he still wasn't going to let himself get close to anyone, especially now that they'd found themselves in the middle of an even deadlier war—but it didn't have to be an all-or-nothing situation. They could be friendly acquaintances. It would make Tomite happier, which would make his own life easier in the long run.

Hikitsu reached up and pulled off his eyepatch. "You're right, Tomite. I've been acting like an ass. But it's not you I'm pissed at; it's the universe. Or at least our portion of it."

Tomite stared slack-jawed, obviously stunned at the uncharacteristic honesty—and comparative flood of words—coming from Hikitsu. But he recovered quickly. "Ummm…you gonna expand on that at all?"

"Yeah. It's the pointlessness of our mission."

"Saving the world from ultimate destruction is pointless?"

"Not if you're actually doing that. But I get the feeling…listen, do you remember the strange way the Emperor behaved when we arrived at the Palace?"

"We talked about this before. A little, anyway. He wasn't very welcoming, but I get the impression that emperors don't usually hang out with commoners."

"We're not just anybody, Tomite! Dammit, _think!"_ Hikitsu reined in his temper, realizing that he was falling into their usual pattern of communication. "Sorry. What I'm trying to say is that whether or not the Emperor cares to socialize with commoners, he's supposed to put the welfare of his country as the highest priority; if for nothing else, to protect his own exalted position. So here we are, two Genbu seishi arriving after many weeks of travel just to tell him that there's a mysterious Enemy threatening his land, and the same seishi offering to train an army to defend it. So what does he do with us?"

"Makes us waste time around the palace attending stupid meetings where the same assholes ask the same asshole questions over and over again!" Tomite snarled, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Then he sends us out to work with second level scrub soldiers instead of the crack Imperial troops—and just when we start making progress, he ships us off to the southern edge of nowhere to supposedly train an army here for some idiot noble crony of his."

"But they never _do_ let us train an army, do they? No, we're stuck running the same military parade exercises over and over again, as if the ability to march in straight ranks is going to help them defeat those bastard creatures! And no one wants to talk strategy, and no one wants to tell us the latest developments, and all we get is a set of rules of who _not_ to ask and where _not_ to go, like this canyon. So I'm getting the feeling that instead of wanting to use our abilities—"

"They just want to keep us out of the way!" Tomite burst out, his face now red with anger as well as heat.

"Which falls in line with the warning Taiitsukun gave us before we left on this mission. She said that not even the monks of Genbu could get a satisfactory response from the Emperor, and now we know first-hand what they were complaining about."

"So what should we do?"

Hikitsu sighed, pulling his eyepatch back on. "We have to come up with our own plan, since Taiitsukun can't help us now. That's why I want to map out Lord Shijo's canyon maze. If he turns against us, I want to know a way out of here." He shuddered again. "Though I hate this place. I don't know why, but enclosed places really get to me."

Tomite stared at him in surprise, "You too? I thought that it was just a weird quirk of mine." He squinted up at the heat shimmering off the white stone walls. "Usually I get chills as well, but this place is so hot, that particular part isn't bothering me."

"You're joking! I have the same—" A giant black shadow suddenly raced across the cliff face, and a dark shape briefly blotted out the sunlight before disappearing over the rim of the near cliff.

"What the hell was that?" Hikitsu cried.

"It was one of the Enemy—I'll never forget that carrion stink!" Tomite grabbed his hat and jumped onto his horse. "Come on, Hikitsu, it must be attacking Shijo Castle! From this direction, it can approach from the rear of the stronghold."

They wheeled the horses around but had to hold to a trot in order to accurately follow Hikitsu's map out of the twists and turns of the maze. When they finally burst out into the open grounds of the castle, they braced themselves for the screams and carnage awaiting them.

Everything was still and quiet. Tomite spurred his horse towards the guard at the nearest gate and dismounted.

"Is the castle under attack? Have there been any calls for help?"

The guard spat in a surly way. "D'ye think I'd be standin' here quiet-like if there were? What bug's crawled up your ass today?"

In one swift motion, Tomite struck the guard across the mouth, then nocked an arrow to his bow before the man got back to his feet. "I'm a Genbu no Seishi, you ignorant clod, and you'll address me with respect! Unless you'd like your ears pinned to your head with an arrow!"

The guard took his hand away from his sword hilt and wiped a sleeve across his bloody mouth. "I'll report this ta th' captain. Lord Shijo'll bring ya ta heel!"

"We answer to no one but Genbu himself. You may report that to your captain as well." Hikitsu removed his eyepatch, so that his seishi sign glowed green within his glittering right eye. The guard backed away, frightened.

The seishi turned their horses and trotted around the castle perimeter to the gardens at the back. There was no sign of a disturbance at all.

Tomite chewed his lip thoughtfully. "We didn't just imagine that creature; I mean, I could smell it and everything. But it doesn't seem to have attacked anything here. Do you think that it went in a different direction from what we thought?"

Hikitsu narrowed his eyes. "I doubt that. But I know what we have to do.

"We have to find out what's really going on at Shijo Castle."

**/-/-/-/**

**Southern Hokkan**

The irresistible smell of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen yard, making Miaka's mouth water. She crept towards the outdoor brick oven with a thick cloth in hand, hoping to crack open the door and sneak a hot roll before the others came down to breakfast. After all, Inami was unlikely to miss just one from the vast quantities of breads and pastries she had shoved into both the indoor and outdoor ovens, and Miaka was too hungry to wait for the men to come straggling in.

_"Bella ragazza!"_

Miaka jumped guiltily. How did Inami know she was out here? The woman had eyes in the back of her head! She braced herself for a blistering scold.

"Come here, _ragazzina,_ and take these baskets. I need you to fetch in the rolls, _subito!"_

Thank Suzaku! Miaka ran to do as told and soon returned to the kitchen balancing a huge cylindrical basket piled high with fragrant bread, the remnants of one hastily filched roll still clenched between her teeth. Inami pushed a damp strand of hair back under her kerchief as she expertly poured pots of hot milk and steaming tea into heavy ceramic pitchers. Without looking up, she signaled Miaka to carry the bread straight through to the dining room.

All forward vision cut off by her burden, Miaka carefully maneuvered her way through the swinging doors—then ran smack into a solid obstacle.

"Gmph!" she choked, feeling the basket teeter dangerously to one side. She tried to tilt it the other way to compensate, but an over-helpful hand struck the same side of the basket so that the rolls shot out across the dining table. She lunged for them, but she and her would-be helper collided, sending her sprawling across the table with him on top of her—just as Tasuki, Namame, and Uruki entered the dining room for breakfast.

"Mmph!" protested Miaka, and the weight rolled off her instantly.

"Sorry, Miaka!" cried Hatsui, "and Tasuki and…everybody! It was an accident, honest! I heard the kitchen door open and I turned like this, and—"

Demonstrating his previous move, Hatsui pivoted and tripped on a roll at the same moment that Inami came through the door carrying a tray of cakes. He fell against her and sent the cakes flying, then pushed off to regain his balance only to realize that he was holding onto her breasts.

_"Ma è pazzo!"_ demanded Inami, incensed. "Are you insane, to fondle the cook's breasts before breakfast? You will ruin all the food!"

"No, I'm not insane! I mean, I'm so sorry! It was an accident! I didn't mean to fondle your breasts—not that they're not very fine breasts, Inami-sama; they're very nice indeed, but see, I'm no longer touching them because I know they belong to Namame-san, as do Uruki-san's, which I've never actually touched and don't plan to, although they're very pretty as well, at least as far as I can tell—"

"Thank you," said Uruki serenely when Hatsui stopped to draw breath, "although I _had_ previously imagined that my breasts belonged to me, but it's always good to get new information."

"I didn't mean it that way!" stammered Hatsui. "Of course your breasts are yours! I just meant that Namame might take offense to other men handling them, just as Tasuki probably took offense to me being on top of Miaka, although," he started backpedaling at the dark look that crossed Tasuki's face, "I'm not saying that he lays _claim_ to Miaka's body, just that it's his job to protect it, her being his priestess and all, eheheh."

Desperate to escape, Hatsui began backing out of the room. "You have to understand, this is all a terrible accident; I would never think to do anything so rude to such fine ladies; for one thing, because it's not like me to go around grabbing females—" He bumped against Urumiya, who was just entering the room yawning, and gratefully threw his arms around his partner for support. "You can ask Urumiya; I spend more time hanging onto him than any girl, ha, ha!"

"What the _hell?"_ exploded the unfortunate seishi. "Get off me, you ass!"

"Now I understand!" cried Inami, delighted. "He speaks _il linguaggio_ _dell'amore,_ the language of love! _Felicitazione!"_

She ran up and kissed Hatsui and Urumiya on both cheeks.

"As soon as she lets go of me," growled Urumiya from within her embrace, "You. Are. DEAD!"

True to his word, he leapt on Hatsui the moment Inami released him, and began pummeling his partner as they rolled across the floor.

Inami was shocked. "_Che inciviltà! _They are young, true, but they should wait to celebrate in their own room!"

"Enough!" roared Namame and separated the battling seishi, throwing them towards opposite corners. "Cannae a man have a moment's peace at his own breakfast table wi'oot a pair o' dafties havin' a barnie 'round th' place? Sit down! Shut it! _Eat!"_

The younger seishi nearly leapt for their seats in fear of Namame's rage, while Miaka needed no second invitation. She enthusiastically crammed one light and flaky pastry in her mouth while grabbing a second. Tasuki almost lost one of his fingers when he mistakenly reached for another that was near her butter knife.

Inami set pots of fruit conserves and jars of honey on the table, while Uruki brought in the pitchers of milk and tea. After a cautious glance in Namame's direction, Urumiya began eating with enjoyment, but Hatsui, still flushed with embarrassment, just stared miserably at his plate.

"_Che cosa c'è?"_ inquired Inami. _"Ometto,_ eat! It's true that there is little for breakfast, only bread and tea, but I will make you an egg if you want one."

Hatsui stared at the table nearly sagging under the multitudes of rolls, pastries, and jams. "No, thank you, Inami-sama. There's more than enough food; I just don't have much appetite."

After exchanging a look with Inami, Uruki picked up the pitcher of tea and filled Hatsui's cup. "Don't be upset," she murmured softly in his ear. "Everyone knows you meant no harm, and no one is angry. And don't mind Namame; he's grumpier than a bear until his first cup of tea. Now eat, or you _will_ end up irritating someone—Inami."

One bite of Inami's heavenly pastries, combined with Uruki's encouragement, almost immediately restored Hatsui's normal appetite. Taking a seat beside him, Uruki began to flirt outrageously, which brought the smile back to Hatsui's face—once he checked to make sure that Namame didn't mind. Urumiya even relented after a few minutes, ruffling Hatsui's hair to show that he was forgiven, and soon cheerful conversation filled the room as it had the previous day.

Miaka was thoroughly enjoying herself, mock-arguing with Tasuki as he playfully kept her favorite conserve—Inami's speciality of mixed fruits cooked with ginger—out of her reach by switching it rapidly from hand-to-hand.

"Got it!" she crowed joyfully as her spoon finally dipped into the jar…and only then did she realize that Tasuki had dropped the jar and was already at the front door with his sword drawn. Uruki joined him almost immediately, finally drawing the attention of the others. The room fell silent, and the muffled thumps that Tasuki had heard were now audible to everyone. Standing to either side of the door, Tasuki and Uruki pulled it open—and a body fell heavily into the room.

"Daichi!" exclaimed Namame, rushing to his friend's side. "There's a crossbow bolt in his back!"

"Leave off, it's not that bad," Daichi grumbled but yielded to Inami's fierce glare as she cut away his shirt and turned him on his stomach to examine the wound. She carefully felt around the bolt, then called Miaka to run and fetch hot water and a clean cloth. Hatsui and Urumiya ran out to join Tasuki and Uruki in searching the immediate area.

"You are right; it is not deadly. It struck the shoulder blade instead of your heart, _fortunatamente,_ but we must remove the bolt before the wound becomes filled with evil humours." Inami worked quickly and efficiently, so that Miaka didn't even have a chance to avert her eyes before she pulled out the bolt with a shout of triumph, matched by a shout of pain from Daichi.

"Damn you, woman, this is your revenge for the afternoons I spent playing _go_ with Kigan!"

"_Che infantile!"_ smirked Inami as she cleaned the wound and bandaged it tightly with strips of clean cloth. "You think this is _vendetta?_ Pah! If this was _vendetta, _you would now have that bolt _in culo!"_

Miaka noted that even as Inami scolded, she subtly checked Daichi's pulse and respirations. Satisfied, she signaled him to get up.

Namame, his features drawn with worry, helped him to a chair. "How did you let someone sneak up behind you, you clumsy old goat?"

"Clumsy old goat? I'll have you know that it took extraordinary skill to get away from those pieces o' boggin' shite, especially my new skill of playing dead! And stop lookin' like last week's porridge, Kigan; one would think that you'd never seen a man shot before."

"Shut it, you barmy erse," retorted Namame affectionately. "I was just frightened that you'd ruin my floor by bleedin' out, and then Inami would make me varnish it again. Now are ye goin' ta answer me or no?"

Daichi looked anxiously towards the door. "I'll tell you all I know, but first get those youngsters back in here before they waste any more time looking for my attackers. I'm not fool enough to let those motherless bastards follow me here…although I'm certain they'll show their ugly faces soon enough."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Emperor's soldiers. An entire regiment of Imperial troops, asking about you three—and if anyone's seen a young girl with you."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Glossary of Terms:**

Kaerinasai! (Japanese) – Return! (imperative)

Gomen nasai (Japanese) - I'm sorry! (Very polite form)

Bella ragazza (Italian) – Pretty girl (Inami's nickname for Miaka)

ragazzina (Italian) – little girl

subito (Italian) – quickly

Ma è pazzo! (Italian) – What are you, crazy?

il linguaggio dell'amore (Italian) _ - _the language of love

Felicitazione! (Italian) – Congratulations!

Che inciviltà! (Italian) – How rude!

Cannae (Scottish) – Cannot

dafties (Scottish) – idiots

barnie (Scottish) - fight

Che cosa c'è? (Italian) – What's the matter?

ometto (Italian) – little boy

fortunatamente (Italian) - luckily

Che infantile! (Italian) – How childish!

vendetta (Italian) - vengeance

in culo! (Italian) – up the ass!

/-/-/-/

**Author's Notes: (4-18-06)** Hey, everybody! Long time, no see. :P

First of all, let me award each and every one of you readers with a gold star for making it to the end of this mega-chapter. Thirteen thousand-plus words, damn! You masochists, you! 'Course, that makes me a sadist, right?

Well, you can look at the excessive chapter length a couple of ways. One way is that this is really four chapters in one, so I haven't really been as bad about updating HP as I thought. I mean, 4 chapters in 7 months; not so bad, eh? (ducks rotten fruit) Okay, you're not buying into that one, I guess.

The truth is that I don't know any other way to show the myriad events that are happening simultaneously in two worlds and four countries (five, if you count Japan) other than to put them in the same chapter. I can only hope that the juxtaposition of events is being conveyed by this format. Regardless, I really appreciate your patience in having _No_ HP for months, then a dang encyclopedia's worth thrown at your head in one day.

Speaking of appreciation, today is Tasuki Appreciation Day, also known as the Bandit's Birthday! So I _had_ to include a scene with him in it; thus, the silly scene at the end (with ominous cliffie attached, of course!)

/-/-/

Tasuki snorts. "Oh, a scene in honor of my birthday. Gee, thanks, Roku…but did you happen to notice how many lines of _dialogue_ I had?"

Roku squirms. "Errrrrrrr…eheheh."

"'Eheheh' is right, Oh Supposedly Devoted Fangirl. You gave me _zero_ lines—_zero,_ count 'em! Some birthday acknowledgment, turning me mute!"

Roku looks away shiftily, murmuring under her breath. "You have no idea of how close to the mark you are…" She shifts to audible mode. "Think of it this way, baby. On your birthday in 2003, you complained that I celebrated your special day by blasting Tama, one of your best friends, into itty-bitty pieces. Then you bitched in 2004 that I acknowledged your birthday in HP by giving you a nasty case of food poisoning. Last year's birthday, you crabbed about me having Miaka castrate you with a sword in the akugi. Really, Tasuki, don't you think that silence is an improvement? But if not, I'm sure that I can come up with _some other_ way to celebrate—"

"No! Forget I ever complained, Roku! Being mute is fine!"

/-/-/

However, I can't leave the "appreciation thread" without acknowledging the tremendous effort by this chapter's sole beta reader, Purple Mouse. Ryuen was kidnapped by her own original novel, so Mouse-chan was stuck with dealing with me alone.

And you know how dangerous _that_ can be…

/-/-/

Original line from HP 15 - In one swift motion, Tomite struck the guard across the mouth, then nocked an arrow to his bow before the man got back to his feet. "I'm a Genbu no Seishi, you ignorant clod, and you'll address me with respect! Unless you'd like your ears pinned to your head—with an arrow!"

Purple Mouse beta commentary – That dash at the end makes Tomite sound a little B-movie-ish, Roku. You might as well write, " Unless you'd like your ears pinned to your head—With! _An! ARROOOOW!"_

Roku – B-movie-ish, eh? All right then.

Newly edited scene from HP 15 –

(Theme from Batman starts playing)

Tomite and Hikitsu spurred their horses towards the guard at the nearest gate, and dismounted. "Is the castle under attack? Have there been any calls for help?"

The guard spat in a surly way. "D'ye think I'd be standin' here quiet-like if there were? And why would I tell anythin' to a coupla costumed freaks like you!"

In one swift motion, Tomite struck the guard across the mouth (KA-_POW!_), then nocked an arrow to his bow (_ZZZAP!_) before the man got back to his feet. "I'm a Genbu no Seishi, you ignorant clod, and you'll address me with respect! Unless you'd like your ears pinned to your head—With! _An! ARROOOOW!_"

The guard fell to his knees, screaming. "No, not that! Anything except the All-Caps Italics! No, _pleeeeease!"_

Tomite put his bow aside with satisfaction. "Another miscreant vanquished, and Gotham is safe for another day! But…" he plucks at his spandex Speedos over spandex tights, "where did we get these weird tight clothes?"

Hikitsu tosses his batcape over one shoulder. "What does it matter? The only thing that matters is that—I. Am. _Batman!"_

Tomite throws his bow down in disgust. "Holy Fuckover! Why don't _I_ get to be Batman? I'm the elder this time!"

"But I'm better-looking."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I have the larger codpiece!"

"Oh. Okay then." Tomite is downcast. "Nertz!"

Hikitsu walks up and takes his hand. "Don't be distressed, Genbu no Robin. You can be my ward, and I'll show you the Batcave."

:P :P :P

Okay, enough fooling around. I'd better hurry up and post this, so that I can get started on writing HP 16 – the Action Chapter.

:P

Oh, a quick P.S. For anyone who has any questions about the fics or anything else (like why the Genbu seishi don't remember their time in the Batcave—uh, I mean _ice_ cave), you can ask away on my lj – link is listed under homepage on my author profile.

Till next time!

Ja ne!

Roku


	16. Escape

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters do belong to me (and yes, the dang text as well:P) and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical selection: 'Escape From the Tavern' from the "Willow" soundtrack; composed by James Horner; 1988, EMI International.

**Warning:** This chapter is rated "M" for harsh language and depictions of extreme violence. On a less serious note, there are also references to the events in OVA 1, for those of you who object to that anime. :P

Acknowledgment: My deep gratitude to my beta readers for this chapter: Kryssa, Purple Mouse, and Ryuen.

********

**Chapter 16. Escape **

Tasuki pulled the cinch strap a little too hard, causing Makaze to snort in irritation. "Sorry, 'Kaze," he muttered as he loosened the strap, returning to tight-lipped silence as he rechecked the contents of the saddlebags.

Hatsui and Urumiya exchanged glances as they saddled their own horses but made no comment, recognizing the futility of trying to lift Tasuki's dark mood.

A shadow briefly blocked the sunlight pouring through the open door. Namame stepped into the barn, sending motes of dust swirling in a cheerful dance that contrasted with the tense atmosphere.

"Here you go, lads," Namame announced, holding out a bag of leftover rolls from breakfast. "Inami insisted that you pack these for the road, and she's slipped a few other things in there as well. Now remember: once you leave the tunnel, keep to the eastern ridge of the mountains. Shijo's estate lies just southwest of your path, but you should be able to stay at least three leagues outside his land and still reach the Sairou border. Like we said, we suspect that Shijo is up to no good, so it's best to avoid his troops, not to mention that there's no easy way to cross over if you're on his holdings. His father antagonized the Sairou-jin to the point of them erecting a whopping great wall to prevent his constant raids."

Urumiya took the bag with murmured thanks, but Tasuki kept his back to Namame as he closed his saddlebags with quick, angry motions.

Namame's blue eyes gleamed with amusement at the obvious snub. "Still sulky then, eh, lad?"

"No. Sulking is for kids who're told they're no longer welcome in their friends' home." Tasuki lifted his gaze, his eyes alight with rage so intense that even Namame took an involuntary step back. "_Pissed off_ is what I am! I know damn well when I'm being shunted out of the way so that my over-aged, fuck-brained friends can make a suicidal last stand ta prove some point about still havin' balls after eighty-odd years!"

Namame blinked, then grinned. "Huh. I'd heard that Tasuki of Suzaku had a mouth on 'im, but I've not had the pleasure of hearin' you go all out till now. 'Tis a pity that Inami isn't here to hear you as well; I'm sure she'd be pleased to know that you think she has balls."

"You think this is funny, don't you." Tasuki walked over and stood nose-to-nose with Namame. "Will you still be laughing when those soldiers, who outnumber you a hundred to three, cut down the people you love right in front of your eyes?"

"Mayhap you're bein' a bit negative, laddie." Namame's voice was mild, but his thickened accent betrayed his anger. "You're makin' us out to be the helpless old fools yonder bairns took us for earlier, fools who can't handle themselves in a fight. It might surprise you to learn that we've seen a bit of action in our day. We were takin' down enemies back when your dad was but an itch in your grandad's drawers."

"I'm not denying that. But I don't think that you've seen what I've seen, either. Have you ever watched a fellow seishi get skewered with a sword while a whole fuckin' army stood between you and him? How many of your brother seishi have you buried, anyway?"

"None in this lifetime, thank Genbu. But I've buried a fair number of friends under those circumstances, so I'm no edjit to risk lives unnecessarily." Namame's tone grew harsh as he poked a finger at Tasuki's chest. "An' I'm thinkin' that _I'm_ not the seishi with his priorities up 'is erse—or did Suzaku appoint you to look after Genbu's own while leavin' his priestess to play ley-di-oh with those who want her dead?"

Tasuki pushed Namame's hand away, his features flushed with fury. "I know my responsibilities! I also know that Miaka would be a damn sight safer if we wiped out the people that're huntin' her—an' we're more likely to do that with six seishi than three! But if your reason for sendin' me and Miaka away is for her safety, explain one thing to me: why are you sending Hatsui and Urumiya away as well? If it's not about pride, why won't you at least accept _their_ help?"

"Because we don't know the exact game the emperor is playing." The doorway was blocked again, this time by a tall, armored figure backlit by the sun. Uruki's smooth tones resonated through the barn. "Our emperor is a subtle, devious man. Perhaps this is the frontal assault that it seems to be—or perhaps his purpose is to flush out Miaka and put you on the run. It's possible that the Imperial soldiers in town are just a feint, and there's an ambush waiting for you on the other side of this mountain. If that's the case, you're going to need Hatsui and Urumiya's help."

Uruki's voice softened as he continued. "We're grateful for your loyalty, Tasuki, but Namame is right: Miaka's safety must be our primary concern. She's the only priestess left in our world, and thus the responsibility of every seishi of the Four Gods—if for no other reason than the fact that the Enemy wants her so badly. So although dividing our forces isn't the optimal strategy, I don't believe that we have any choice."

Tasuki ran a hand through his hair in frustration, then dropped his belligerent stance. "You're right. I dunno why I didn't see that myself. Maybe I'm just tired. Tired of runnin' and leavin' friends behind to fight, tired of losin' people I—" The words caught in his throat, and he shook his head.

"I know." Compassion vibrated through Uruki's deepened tones. "The gods have set a hard road before you, but I have faith that you're up to any challenge that comes your way. You can trust us as well; trust that we'll fight with intelligence as well as strength, and buy you as much time as we can. For now, however, we have to part—although I think that an apology is in order before you go."

Tasuki sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry; I guess I was actin' like—"

"Not you, Tasuki."

Namame uncrossed his arms, startled. "Who, me? What did I do?"

"It's what you didn't do. You could've explained the situation as easily as I did, but instead you chose to bark out orders instead of reasons, and so ended up causing unnecessary strife."

Namame drew in a breath as if to protest, but something uncompromising in the silhouette of his partner stopped him in his tracks.

"All right then," he grumbled. "Tasuki, lad, could be that I treated you like an untested greenling instead of a Miko no Seishi, an' for that, I'm sorry." He rumpled Tasuki's hair affectionately. "Any road, there's no need to fret on our behalf; we're tough old coots, and the Emperor's troops will soon learn that to their sorrow."

He clasped hands with Tasuki and the younger seishi, trading well-wishes and quips with them.

"It's time. Miaka is waiting," said Uruki, and turned back towards the house, long chestnut braid swinging between broad shoulders.

"Nag, nag, nag," muttered Namame humorously as he followed Uruki out of the barn. "'Tis a sad fate to be driven so hard in my twilight years by my own awd love."

Tasuki followed him, grinning, while Urumiya whistled for his eagle. Kasen flew down from the rafters and perched on his gauntleted arm as he strode towards the door, but Hatsui hung back for a moment, staring after the elder seishi.

"Hey, Urumiya, did you notice something different about Uruki just now? She seemed a little…I dunno…gruff or something."

"Oh, for Genbu's sake!" Urumiya gave Hatsui a sharp cuff to the head with his free hand. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Ow! What was that for?" Hatsui rubbed the sore spot on his head, then smacked his fist into his palm in triumph. "I know what the difference is! She looks taller in her armor, that's all!"

****

Miaka dropped her veil and turned her face to the sky, closing her eyes and savoring the warmth of sunlight on the only exposed part of her skin. The rest of her body was covered by layers of light, sand-colored cotton and a neat turban, donned at Tasuki's insistence once they had exited the tunnel. Rolling her shoulders to loosen her stiff muscles, she overbalanced and had to clutch the man in front of her to keep from falling off the horse, apologizing by way of a self-conscious giggle.

"Enjoyin' yourself?" Tasuki's voice was half-sarcastic, half-admonishing as Makaze cantered forward to draw even with her. The Suzaku seishi was dressed in the same kind of desert robes, although Urumiya and Hatsui remained in their normal Hokkan deels. "If you're havin' trouble stayin' on, you can always come back and ride with me."

"No need; she's doing fine," Urumiya replied easily, patting one of Miaka's hands where it rested on his waist. "You might as well let Makaze have some time off from carrying both of you. If we have to make a run for it, Miaka goes back in the saddle with you, and Makaze will be fresher if he's not worn out from carrying two riders all day."

Tasuki muttered something under his breath and dropped back to keep watch as rearguard.

"Is he often this moody?" Miaka nodded at Tasuki's retreating form, then turned her eyes to watch Kasen as he rode the thermals in long, lazy circles above them.

"Tasuki? Not really…I mean, yeah, lately…I guess, ever since you…" Urumiya shook his head impatiently. "What I'm trying to say is that you're his priestess, so it's natural for him to be protective of you, even if he knows you're with friends. I remember the one time Hatsui and I met up with the Priestess of Genbu. We were just kids, but I was ready to take on the world—and that bastard Nakago—if he so much as looked at her."

"Nakago. I know that name, but I can't remember…" Miaka shivered, her hands tightening involuntarily on Urumiya's waist. "It makes me feel like I did yesterday, when we were going through the mountain tunnel."

"Yeah, I know what you mean; the tunnel creeped me out as well. I know that it was a miracle of workmanship on Namame's part, moving all that earth and stone out of the heart of the mountain, but all the same, it was so…so…"

"Dark. Dark and clammy. I felt like the walls were closing in, and that Tasuki's and Hatsui's lamps were going to be snuffed out at any minute. And the bats!"

"Don't talk to me about the bats," Urumiya pleaded jokingly. "Squeaking and rustling above us—gah! I know that they're harmless, but all the same, I kept a tight hold on Kasen so that he wouldn't stir them up. If they'd gotten scared by him and starting flying around our faces…well, it wouldn't be very seishi-like for me to gallop through the tunnel screaming like a girl."

Miaka let out a peal of laughter. "I've never heard a man admit to being afraid of bats! Besides, you always seem so confident."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Urumiya leaned forward, waiting until Hatsui, who was scouting ahead, disappeared around the curve of the next foothill. "It's just an act," he confided in a low voice. "I was barely thirteen when Hatsui and I were dragged into a confrontation with…well, into a big mess that required us to be guardian seishi before our time. All I knew was that Hatsui was even more frightened than me, and since I was one year older than him, I faked it and pretended to know exactly what we were doing. It was Genbu's mercy that Tasuki and Chichiri showed up in time to save our green asses. Even so, ever since then Hatsui has looked up to me like…well, like I really know how to handle the worst situations. So now I'm stuck faking this confidence, probably for the rest of our lives."

Miaka leaned her cheek against his back as she mulled over his words. "You know, I think that there's not much difference between real confidence and faking it."

"How can you say that? It sure as hell feels different!"

"That's true. But in the end—what I mean is, I've listened to you and Hatsui talking to Tasuki, and it sounds as if you've survived some tough missions. If your fake confidence leads Hatsui to trust you enough to overcome impossible obstacles, does it matter if it's not real? Or maybe your success makes it true."

Urumiya was silent for a long moment. "How do you know these things?" he finally asked. "How do you know _me_ so well? We only met each other the day before yesterday."

A soft sigh. "I'm not pretending to know everything about you; it's that your words reminded me of me. Ever since I arrived, I've been faking confidence myself, and if it weren't for Tasuki, I might just—I'm sitting behind you, trying to enjoy the day, but the entire time, I've been wondering how Namame, Uruki, and Inami are doing, or if they're even still—" Miaka choked up. "See?" she whispered. "Not so confident after all."

Urumiya reached down to where she held onto his waist and covered her hand with his own. "They're all right. They'll be okay."

"And you know this because…?"

"Because I'm faking confidence. By your own rules, that means it's true, right?"

Miaka smiled sadly and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I guess so. But—" She paused, interrupted by the sound of Makaze's rapidly approaching hoofbeats. Tasuki pulled up in a cloud of dust and reached out a hand to Miaka.

"Get on Makaze now. And pull your face veil up."

"What's wrong?" Urumiya helped Tasuki swing Miaka onto Makaze's broad back.

"Hatsui hasn't returned from those foothills up ahead. See what your eagle can detect."

Urumiya gave a shrill whistle, and Kasen changed course, dropping out of the thermals like the fire arrow for which he was named. Urumiya held his hand up to point at Kasen as he swooped by, the seishi's gaze going slightly out of focus as he used his power to look out of the eagle's eyes.

"Damn it!"

"What do you see?"

"Looks like a military party of some sort. They must've been hidden beneath a ridge or something; otherwise, Kasen would've alerted us. Now they're surrounding Hatsui and appear to be questioning him. Wait; some soldiers have broken off from the group, and are riding—"

"Straight towards us," finished Tasuki as he fastened his own face veil beneath his turban. "I can see the dust clouds up ahead. Miaka, make sure that you keep your veil on, and try not to talk. It's too late to run, so we'll hafta go to our backup plan. Might as well break off, Urumiya; keep Kasen outta this for the time being."

Moments later, they reined in their horses as the approaching soldiers gave a warning shout. Miaka kept her eyes downcast as the men surrounded them, doing her best to act like a timid, frightened boy. _Not much of a stretch, _she thought nervously, as the soldiers pointed their swords at her companions.

"Explain your presence on Lord Shijo's borders!" The man who spoke wore a gold uniform beneath black armor, the ornate design and insignia on the armor indicating his rank as captain. He glared at them, his lip curled beneath a thin, drooping mustache.

"Our pardon," apologized Urumiya. "We are simple merchants trying to establish a trade route. It was our understanding," he brandished a scroll map, "that we were three leagues outside Lord Shijo's land. It was not our intention to trespass."

"The Emperor has authorized Lord Shijo to establish security for Hokkan's borders outside his own estate. Your intentions are of no importance."

Urumiya's eyes flashed with anger, but he kept his tone mild. "We didn't know. We'll be happy to apply for the proper papers, if you'll let us know which town—"

"You will accompany us at once. Lord Shijo will decide your disposition. Hand over your arms."

The soldier nearest Tasuki reached out for the tessen strapped to his back. Tasuki let out a curse in a strange language and struck the man's hand away. Swords sang out of scabbards, and Miaka found herself with a blade pointed directly at her throat.

"Wait!" shouted Urumiya. "He doesn't understand Hokkan-go very well! Let me explain what you want, and then—"

"Tell him to throw down his weapon immediately, or he can watch the boy's blood drain into the sand!"

Urumiya exchanged words with Tasuki in the same foreign tongue, and with one final glare, Tasuki tossed the tessen and holster to the ground. Urumiya's sword soon followed, but even this gesture failed to appease the captain. He pulled his horse close to Makaze, glaring into Tasuki's eyes.

"What's wrong with you, eh? What're you doing in Hokkan if you don't know how to speak like civilized folk?"

"He's a member of an offshoot tribe of the Kel, my lord Captain," Urumiya explained in an appeasing tone. "The Kel, as you know, are the most experienced traders in the land, and we were trying to set up a route for the transport of fine wools between—"

"I'm not interested in your petty dealings," snapped the captain. "The only thing that interests me is that you and your friends follow my orders to the letter, or be ready to pay the price." He pointed his sword at Tasuki and swept it in a line parallel with his throat. "You can understand _this_, can't you, you damned desert scum."

Turning his horse, he cantered back towards the foothills, as the rest of the soldiers surrounded their prisoners and forced them to follow in his wake.

****

Miaka was hungry. She was tired and apprehensive as well—but hungry more than anything. It had been almost twenty-four hours since their capture, and they had finally reached Lord Shijo's castle after hours of hard riding broken by a brief period for sleep. She'd slept fitfully, once waking to find Hatsui snoring softly beside her, but she doubted that Tasuki or Urumiya had slept at all. At least, every time that she'd woken during the night, they'd been awake, their eyes gleaming with reflected firelight.

Her stomach rumbled, and she fought back a surge of annoyance. It was bad enough that their captors had brought no extra provisions for them, but did they really need to steal their prisoner's food as well? _Pigs!_ thought Miaka, fuming at the memory of how the soldiers had wolfed down Inami's bread and pastries. The injustice of it had almost been enough to inspire one of her crazy fist-swinging attacks, but one warning glance from Tasuki reminded her to keep her temper under control. Food was important, but it wasn't worth dying for…or getting her companions killed, either.

"Dismount!" barked the captain, and the soldiers obeyed with military precision and speed, keeping their prisoners at swordpoint the entire time.

Miaka stepped back after Tasuki had lowered her to the ground, instinctively avoiding sudden moves that might agitate their captors. As soon as Tasuki dismounted, a soldier darted up and grabbed Makaze's bridle. The stallion flattened his ears and snorted, but Tasuki placed a hand on his neck, moving his fingers in subtle gestures. Makaze calmed immediately and allowed himself to be led to a nearby paddock with the other horses. Miaka looked at the variety of horses milling around the enclosure, ranging from steppe ponies of the nomads to common farm horses and more than a few finebred specimens—and her heart sank. No doubt these horses had been taken from other captives of Lord Shijo's guard, as well.

A contingent of heavily armed, gold-liveried guards descended from the polished wood veranda of the palace to exchange words with the military party. Despite the captain's assurances, the guards pulled the captives aside and patted them down for concealed weapons. Miaka held her breath, hoping that the layers of nomadic robes would keep the guards from detecting the unusual binding across her chest.

To distract herself from her nervousness, she looked across the courtyard. A troop of mounted soldiers paraded in the distance, following the lead of two men. Although the soldiers were clad in Shijo's gold-and-black uniforms, the two leaders wore normal Hokkan deels. Miaka frowned, squinting at the long, silver hair of one and the other's fur hat perched on dark hair. Something stirred in her memories, and she reached out to tug at Tasuki's sleeve.

At that moment, a shrill cry sounded from above them, and Kasen plummeted from the sky to land gracefully on Urumiya's gauntlet. The guards and soldiers jumped in surprise, raising their swords.

"Wait!" The captain approached Urumiya, studying Kasen through narrowed eyes. "Is that a steppe eagle?"

Urumiya nodded warily as Kasen shifted his weight from foot to foot, pulling his neck in and clacking his black-tipped beak.

"I've not seen one tamed before. Is he trained to the hunt?"

"Of course."

"Let the creature be," the captain ordered his troops. "No doubt Lord Shijo will be interested in this new acquisition."

Urumiya's lips tightened at the casual commandeering of his eagle, but he merely gave a brief nod and followed the captive party up the stairs and through the ornate golden doors of the castle.

Miaka and Hatsui gaped at the size of the huge entrance hall, every wall adorned with tapestries of a gold-helmeted hero battling demons and monsters, fighting back hordes of savages, or partaking in the hunt of dangerous carnivores. Awe seeped into Miaka as she pondered what godlike being had inspired such worshipful display.

"Is that supposed to be Genbu in human form?" asked Hatsui, echoing her thoughts.

"No," said the captain. "These tapestries depict the glorious deeds of the former Lord Shijo, father of our current lord and the founder of the Shijo Dynasty."

Miaka bit her lip, glad that her veil concealed her expression as she recalled Namame's mocking words about the previous Lord Shijo and the manner of his death. What wouldn't she give to have the elder Genbu seishi beside her right now, as this sycophantic ass described a mere two generations of minor nobles as a dynasty! She could almost hear Inami's contemptuous diatribe in her ears.

Almost.

"And what of our patron god?" asked Urumiya, interrupting her melancholy thoughts as he lifted his arm to indicate the absence of tapestries depicting Genbu or his seishi.

"Over there." The captain waved casually at a small plinth in a corner of the room, bearing a crude carving of a black tortoise in onyx.

It wasn't even Genbu thought Miaka; it was just a plain tortoise without the snake arching over its shell. Urumiya and Hatsui's eyes flashed in anger, but before they could speak, the guards pushed them towards one of three large corridors leading from the entrance hall.

It was a confusing journey, the corridor angling at times before making abrupt turns or branching off into multiple side passages. Miaka was soon hopelessly disoriented as to their direction, so she fixed her gaze on Tasuki walking before her, his robes helping to conceal the fact that he was subtly guiding Urumiya with a hand on his elbow.

Miaka frowned in confusion. Why did Urumiya need Tasuki's help? She finally noticed that Kasen was observing their passage with his bright bird eyes, tilting and swiveling his head to look behind as they made one confusing turn after another. He was memorizing their route, she realized—or at least, Urumiya was memorizing it through Kasen's eyes.

"Halt!"

They had arrived at a heavily guarded entranceway, with enormous doors that extended from floor to ceiling. The captain saluted the new set of guards, and they moved forward to take the weapons of the military party. Tasuki watched intently as the tessen, along with all other weapons, was transferred to the palace guards.

Hatsui tilted his head towards Urumiya and murmured, "Interesting that Shijo apparently doesn't trust even his own military to carry weapons in his presence."

"Silence!" hissed the nearest guard and grasped the hilt of his sword to make his point. Satisfied with the security around the prisoners, the guard pushed open the door and allowed the military party to enter.

This reception hall dwarfed the previous entrance hall, its soaring vaulted ceiling imbuing the room with a sense of regal immensity. Unfortunately, the architectural artistry was countered by the excesses of the interior décor. Brightly enameled panels decorated every inch of the walls, once again depicting the ancestors of the Shijo clan taking part in glorious deeds. Scattered thickly throughout the room were pedestals that bore jade statues or priceless vases. It seemed that every surface was gilded and festooned with ornamentation, unintentionally producing the effect of wealth displayed at a level of ostentation that bordered on the ridiculous. Miaka wondered if the Emperor of Hokkan himself possessed half as many treasures as the Shijo family.

At the end of a long carpet stood a dais that held three gold-enameled chairs. The men flanking the center chair looked up as the prisoners entered the room. The one on the left appeared old, his skin pale and wrinkled, his head bald except for a few remaining tufts of white hair. His robes were of rich grey silk adorned with muted silver cranes, the severe cut suggesting controlled refinement. He leaned forward with the predatory stoop of a carrion bird, examining the newcomers with narrowed eyes and curled lip, exposing his sharp yellow teeth.

The man on the right regarded them with an openly hostile stare from beneath heavy-lidded eyes. He was a squat man of perhaps sixty, bedecked with a more elaborate version of the black and gold uniform worn by the captain. He exuded a tangible air of self-importance, giving him the appearance of a puffed-up amphibian.

Councilor Vulture and Councilor Toad, thought Miaka, and she might've been amused if not for the guards pointing spears at her head. She moved closer to Tasuki, who reached back to nudge her behind him. Hatsui and Urumiya edged slightly nearer to her, and she realized that they were subtly shielding her with their bodies.

Despite the commotion of their entrance, the man in the center chair did not glance up at them. From his position of importance and the rich gold embellishments accenting his chartreuse silk robes, he had to be Lord Shijo, but he was not at all what Miaka had expected from Inami's vitriolic remarks. Instead of looking like an iron-fisted tyrant, he was a surprisingly ordinary-looking man, only medium height with a pleasant, vacuous face, his slightly receding chin adding to the impression of weak good humor.

His attention was currently riveted on the two people standing immediately before the dais: a middle-aged man in a simple but elegantly cut suit of bronze silk, and a young woman wearing a sheer face veil. She appeared lovely, tall with lush black hair caught up in elegant loops, her form draped in diaphanous layers that complemented the season with their gentle hues of spring green, rose, and yellow. Her eyes were cast modestly downward, but she stood with a confident grace that belied her submissive posture.

"So, Lord Asukai, it seems that we have an agreement in the making here. An alliance between our clans will promote our interests and the interests of a safe, free Hokkan for the foreseeable future." Lord Shijo's voice, a slightly nasal tenor, was as innocuous as his face.

Lord Asukai made a slight bow. "You honor me with your offer, Lord Shijo, but as I have just explained, any agreements must be approved by all of the subchieftains of my clan. I regret that I cannot make any promises at this time. However, I must thank you for the hospitality shown to myself and my daughter."

Shijo looked momentarily nonplussed by Asukai's diplomatic refusal, but he brightened at the mention of the daughter. He rose from his chair and approached the young woman, catching her hand between his own.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lord Asukai. I'm sure that you'll convince your chieftains of the urgency of defending Hokkan's borders. I look forward to meeting with you again…and the lovely Mayumi, of course." He paused to smile ingratiatingly at the woman. "I invite you to stay and enjoy my hospitality for as long as you like."

Lord Asukai cleared his throat, and his daughter gently pulled her hand from Shijo's grasp, hurrying obediently back to her father's side. Hatsui coughed, covering a laugh as he watched her surreptitiously wipe her hand on her skirt.

That slight sound was enough to draw Shijo's attention, and he frowned at the new arrivals at the entrance.

"I'll have to excuse myself, Lord Asukai. I'm afraid that there are urgent matters that demand my attention at this time. I'll see to it that we get another chance to meet before you leave."

Asukai bowed, leaving the reception room with a single intent glance at the military party. His daughter hurried after him, but her eyes, bright with curiosity, lingered on the captives. Hatsui flashed her a wide smile and inclined his head, until Urumiya drew his attention back by stepping on his boot.

"So what do we have here?" Shijo was once again smiling in his friendly, vacuous way. He stared at Kasen, whose dark brown and black feathers spread in an impressive display as the eagle flapped his wings. "Most hawks are hooded and wear those little straps—bells—tresses, right?"

"Jesses, my lord," answered Councilor Toad stolidly.

"Right, jesses. But why is it here—and who are these people?"

"They're intruders, my lord," answered the captain. "I captured them near your western border."

"We were three leagues outside the border!" Hatsui stepped forward to confront the captain. "We weren't anywhere near Lord Shijo's land when you took us prisoner! Where I come from, we call that kidnapping."

"Ah, kidnapping. No, we don't approve of that here; we're a civilized people, and we don't hold with such barbaric practices." Shijo raised his eyebrows in query. "Can you explain this, Captain?"

"They're suspicious characters, my lord," the captain replied, pointing a finger at Tasuki and Miaka. "Those two look to be Sairou-jin, if you ask me."

"Sairou-jin traveling with Hokkan-jin," rasped Councilor Vulture. "Suspicious indeed."

Councilor Toad nodded in agreement. "These are troubled times, and we mustn't take any chances. I suggest that you hold these people, my lord, until we confirm their identities and purpose."

Urumiya exchanged a desperate glance with Hatsui as the guard moved forward. He took a few steps towards the dais. "Wait! We'll tell you who we are."

"And that would be…?" Shijo's look of mild enquiry contrasted with the scowls on the faces of his Councilors.

"We're Genbu no Seishi, defenders of Hokkan." Green light glowed around Hatsui and Urumiya. "We offer our services in exchange for safe passage for our companions."

Shijo held up his hand before his eyes, shielding them from the bright light of Genbu. "But we already have—"

"Enough defenders for the time being," interrupted Councilor Toad.

Hatsui and Urumiya exchanged startled glances. Interruption of a high-ranking lord was usually an executable offense in most noble courts—but instead of becoming angry, Shijo merely coughed in confusion and glanced toward Councilor Vulture, who nodded at him.

Councilor Toad stood up and approached the prisoners. "Explain why you think you may defy Lord Shijo's decision."

"We have no intention of defying _Lord Shijo's_ decisions," replied Urumiya, his pointed remark making the nobleman squirm slightly. "Nor do we believe that you meant to question our loyalty to our country. After all, we are Hokkan's legendary warriors, as the people of this land will tell you. Anyone who claims allegiance to Genbu would hardly imprison his chosen representatives, would he?"

Councilor Vulture pursed his thin lips in thought. "True enough. But you still haven't explained your purpose in traveling or the identities of your Sairou-jin companions."

Shijo joined in. "That's right. We don't even know what their faces look like. Lord Tsuyama, remove their veils."

Councilor Toad reached up towards Tasuki's face—and was suddenly caught in an iron grip and forced to his knees, his arm twisted behind his back. The palace guards gave a shout and jumped forward, swords upraised.

"Wait!" cried Urumiya. He addressed Tasuki rapidly in the strange language he had used earlier. Tasuki immediately released the Councilor, straightening his robes and veil with an air of affronted dignity as the squat man skittered angrily back to the safety of the dais.

Shijo raised a hand hesitantly. "What is the meaning of this, Genbu warrior?"

"My companions are members of the Kel tribes, my lord. In their culture, asking a grown man to reveal his face before strangers is equivalent to asking him to strip naked and dance for you."

Shijo flushed uncomfortably, and Miaka had a sudden flash of insight. Shijo had no idea of how to handle people, let alone rule a fiefdom. He was nothing more than a puppet for the machinations of his malevolent council…which made him no less dangerous, unfortunately.

"I, uh…I didn't mean to disrespect their culture—"

"Nor do they have the right to disrespect you, my lord!" hissed Councilor Toad. "You are the one who rules here!"

"A moment please." Councilor Vulture drew his counterpart and Shijo aside, and whispered urgently at them until Shijo lost his look of mild confusion, replacing it with a mask of resolve.

"I have made my decision," Shijo announced with almost convincing gravity, reciting his coached words with care. "The honorable Genbu warriors are free to go on their way…but their companions must remain in our custody."

****

"That's insane!" Hatsui burst out. "You have no evidence against them!"

"That's right," replied Shijo, his hands spread in mock helplessness. "No evidence of who they are or where they're from…except those turbans and robes of those Sairou-jin wanderers, what d'ye call 'em again?"

"Kel Tagelmoust," replied Councilor Toad, licking his wide lips. Miaka found herself unwillingly fascinated by the action, almost expecting a long tongue to flick out from his mouth and snag a fly. "The Kel claim that their origins are older than those of any emperor, so they swear allegiance to no country and recognize no boundaries between sovereign states—"

"Which makes them the least likely people to foment trouble between countries," argued Urumiya.

"That may be." Councilor Vulture extended his scrawny neck towards Tasuki and Miaka. "But until we find evidence to the contrary, we'll have to hold them as a possible threat to Hokkan security."

"Let me see if I understand this," said Hatsui, his tones suffused with disbelief. "You have no proof of treason or any other crime committed by either of these travelers, but until you get evidence, you'll have to keep them in prison without any hope of trial or release."

"That's right," said Shijo. "If we find evidence against them, they'll have a trial before the highest judges in our state." He gestured Urumiya and Hatsui forward, and lowered his voice confidentially. "You have to understand; they're different. Hiding their faces behind veils, wearing these robe and turban things—they're not like us."

"Like us?" echoed Urumiya.

"Yes. Normal Hokkan-jin. Decent Genbu-fearing folk, instead of these heathens who worship," he flapped a hand contemptuously, "desert spirits."

Hatsui flushed angrily, but Urumiya placed a hand on his arm, restraining him. "So I take it that there's nothing we can say to change your mind?"

Shijo assumed a resolute expression. "Unfortunately, no."

Urumiya bowed and backed respectfully away from the dais. Turning to rejoin his companions, he locked eyes with Tasuki and gave a subtle nod—then jerked his gauntleted arm towards the ceiling.

Kasen burst into the air, making a rapid, spiraling ascent before diving like an arrow and striking out viciously at the guards nearest Tasuki and Miaka. His talons ripped into flesh and tore out eyes, as screams of agony echoed through the throne room.

The military captain immediately turned on his captives, lunging for Tasuki's throat, but Tasuki was ready for him. Whirling his arms, he caught the captain's attack in the folds of his sleeves, then drove his elbow into the man's throat, sending him crashing to the ground, gasping helplessly for air through his bruised windpipe. Urumiya leapt forward and dragged Tasuki and Miaka down as Hatsui spun in place, his hands outstretched before him. Black needles shot from his fingertips and flew through the air, piercing the battle armor of the soldiers and the palace guard, as a few loyal men threw themselves before Shijo and his advisers to shield them.

"Get the weapons!" Hatsui gasped.

Tasuki, Miaka, and Urumiya dashed towards the exit as Hatsui covered their retreat with a steady stream of his lethal needles. They paused at the doors, opening them slightly to allow the noise and commotion from the throne room to reach the corridor. In less than a second, the outside guards rushed through the open doorway, only to be met by the heavy wood panels smashing into their faces. Tasuki and Urumiya released the doors and snatched up their confiscated weapons from the dazed, bleeding guards, then took off down the corridor with Hatsui and Miaka following closely in their wake. They ducked into an alcove, breathing heavily, listening to the shouts for reinforcements echo through the halls.

There was a clatter of wings, and Urumiya stuck his arm out into the corridor. Kasen landed on his wrist as lightly as a sparrow. He murmured softly to the eagle, clicking his tongue in a strange rhythmic pattern, until Kasen erupted into flight once more, skimming the ceiling as he flew swiftly out of their sight.

"Where's he going?" asked Miaka.

"I sent him to get the horses," Urumiya replied. "We'll need them free and ready to ride as soon as we get out of here."

"_If_ we get out of here," Tasuki grumbled. "They may have led us the long way around to confuse us, but I'm still certain that we're hell and gone from the front gates. This fucking place is as huge as a fortress."

They crept out into the corridor, following Urumiya in the direction that Kasen had flown, listening for the telltale rattle of weapons. Miaka had just begun to breathe easier, believing that they would make a clean escape, when a shout sounded from behind them.

"Damn it, they've found us!" cursed Tasuki.

"Wait!" Urumiya cried, his eyes appearing to stare into the distance. "This isn't what I asked him to do, but— Stop running, and get against the wall! NOW!"

"Do it!" shouted Hatsui, shoving Tasuki and Miaka towards the far wall as he guided Urumiya to the near one. Tasuki pressed Miaka against the wall and shielded her with his body.

A deep rumble came from the corridor, sounding like a storm breaking in the near distance. The rumble grew rapidly louder and closer, and Miaka felt the floor tremble beneath her feet. The triumphant shouts of the soldiers pursuing them suddenly turned into cries of dismay—and Miaka caught her breath as the entire herd of horses from the paddock thundered past in a wild stampede, the wind of their passage lifting her hair. The sounds of shattering pottery were accompanied by the clatter of hooves slipping on marble, and screams from the men in their path.

Kasen flew shrieking above the horses' heads, intensifying their frenzy, but the eagle wasn't the only force driving the palace invasion. A familiar trumpeting neigh reached their ears, as the huge stallion at the rear forced two other horses away from the rest of the herd, and pulled up, snorting and blowing, before Tasuki and Miaka.

"Good work, Makaze!" Tasuki grabbed Makaze's bridle, leaping into the saddle and pulling Miaka up after him as Hatsui and Urumiya retrieved their own mounts. In the distance, the panicked squeals of the stampeding horses mingled with the cries of palace guards as they were trampled by the runaway herd.

The seishi group cantered cautiously across the marble floor as Kasen flew swiftly past them, banking around the next bend in the hallway.

"Damn, there's an entire troop of palace guards heading towards us!" shouted Urumiya.

"This way!" ordered Tasuki as he spurred Makaze down a side corridor.

Miaka barely had time to notice the relative lack of ornamentation down this narrow corridor before they burst through swinging doors into a large room filled with cooking fires, huge iron woks, and servants clad in white. The large, portly cook cried out in terror as he dove away from the horses, while a minor chef waved a basket and shouted at the errant riders. Miaka reached out with one boot as she and Tasuki rode through, and kicked the steaming plates of food off a marble countertop. The crash of breaking porcelain mingled with the cries of the cooking staff, and Miaka felt a sense of vindication at ruining Shijo's food after his men had stolen hers.

They burst out of the doors at the far end of the kitchen and turned to ride deeper into the palace as the shouts of the kitchen staff faded in their wake. The corridor ornamentation changed again, this time featuring niches holding ornate vases filled with sprays of cherry blossoms. The three horses cantered around the next corner—and nearly ran down a group of ladies walking sedately, admiring the flowers.

"Watch out!" cried Hatsui, and the ladies scattered, screaming, except for the tall one in the middle, who brandished her parasol threateningly at the horses bearing down on her. Hatsui pulled desperately on his reins. His horse veered away, and he leaned down and scooped up the lady who had been in their path.

"Stop hitting me!" he yelled, as the woman landed a few good whacks with her parasol. He grabbed at the parasol, inadvertently pulling off her veil as well. "Lady Mayumi!"

"How do you know my name?" Mayumi spat, her black eyes flashing. "Are you some lackey of Shijo's? Let me go this instant!"

"No, damn it, ouch! We're trying to get away from that bastard!"

Mayumi looked over at the Urumiya and the robed and veiled figures of Tasuki and Miaka as they slowed their horses. "You're the criminals from the throne room!"

"We're not criminals! We're Genbu no Seishi—shit, doesn't anybody respect their God's warriors anymore?"

Mayumi stopped struggling. "Genbu no Seishi? Then maybe you can help my father—"

Urumiya pulled his horse close to Hatsui's. "We can't help anyone unless we get out of here. Do you know a way out, Lady Mayumi?"

"Through there!" Mayumi replied breathlessly, pointing at a bamboo latticework grille in the wall. Tasuki immediately turned Makaze toward it. "The ladies' gardens are though that—Aiiie_eeee!"_

The stallion blasted straight through the grille, shattering the thin bamboo lathes, as Hatsui's and Urumiya's mounts followed closely in his wake. They galloped along manicured paths, past trickling fountains and sculpted gardens, their progress marked by the startled shrieks of women taking the air, until they pulled up before a low gate leading to a dusty road.

"Down that road," gasped Mayumi, "down that road lies the canyon maze. But it's impossible to find your way through without one of Shijo's guides!"

"Don't need it when we've got Kasen," Urumiya pointed at the eagle already riding the thermals above the canyon walls. "Thank you for your help, Lady Mayumi."

Hatsui let Mayumi down but instead of riding off, he dismounted swiftly and planted a passionate kiss on her curved lips.

Tasuki jerked on Makaze's reins, and the stallion snorted and stamped irritably, reflecting his owner's impatience.

Hatsui reluctantly broke the kiss. "Genbu no Hatsui," he said huskily. "Just remember that—Genbu no Hatsui."

He remounted and spurred his horse to join the others, leaving Mayumi standing in the gardens, dreamily touching her lips. "Ready to go!" he announced happily.

"Finally!" Tasuki turned Makaze sharply towards the gate. "Damn it, we're not on a pleasure jaunt, you idiot!"

Makaze cleared the low gate in a single leap, the two Genbu horses on his heels. They galloped down the road towards high limestone walls shimmering in the sunlight, the peaceful atmosphere shattered by the loud pounding of war drums from the palace watchtowers.

"They're sounding the alarm!" said Hatsui. "They're summoning their soldiers to stop us!"

"No shit, Loverboy," spat Tasuki. "We're gonna hafta ride faster to make up for the time you wasted picking up girls. Urumiya?"

Urumiya listed in the saddle as his eyes turned upward in a trancelike manner. "We're clear so far. When we reach the canyons, take the first branch off the right."

"Let me take his horse's reins," Hatsui urged. "I'm used to guiding him while he's channeling Kasen."

Makaze dropped back, allowing Hatsui to join Urumiya in the lead as the horses slowed upon entering the twisting paths of the canyon maze. Miaka gazed at the stratified walls of rock surrounding them, and forced down an oppressive feeling of claustrophobia. Every turn in their path led to another branching of the ways, some of the paths wide enough to allow all three horses to trot abreast, while other paths grew so narrow that they could only move in single file.

"A small squadron of soldiers is entering the maze behind us, and a larger one is approaching from the east." Urumiya narrowed his eyes as if he could sharpen Kasen's senses even more. "The rest of Shijo's soldiers appear to be assembling to the south of the canyons."

"We've got to hurry!" said Hatsui.

"No point; they can't move any faster through the maze than we can, and from the look of them, their scouts are busy deciphering maps. It's more important that we keep out of their way. At least we've got Kasen to show us—"

He suddenly pitched to one side, almost falling out of the saddle, his cry drowned by the shrieks of the eagle flying above them. Kasen plummeted towards the cliffs, swerving upward at the last moment, as a giant claw reached out of the sky to attack him. There was a strange pressure in Miaka's ears; then, with a sound like a muffled implosion, a nightmare beast appeared above the wildly flailing eagle.

"Get back! Get under here!" shouted Tasuki, spurring Makaze towards a rock overhang. "Urumiya, break off contact with Kasen before that thing follows your _ki_ here! Do it _now!"_

"I can't! He needs my help to escape—" Urumiya blindly turned his face upward as Hatsui pulled both their horses into the shelter of the overhang.

"Damn you, you're endangering Miaka! Break off, or I'll kill you myself!"

Hatsui spurred his horse between his partner and Tasuki's drawn sword, slapping Urumiya smartly across the face. "Onii-san, do it!"

Kasen struggled above them, twisting and diving to escape the giant talons. The creature's metallic shrieks resounded off the canyon walls until Miaka thought she would go deaf. Her ears popped one more time, and a second shadow raced spiderlike across the ground and up the cliff walls.

Urumiya gasped, his eyes clearing as he broke off the connection to his companion animal. Miaka's heart twisted at his pained expression, but the Enemy left them no time for emotion or anything other than the desperate attempt to survive.

"Anyone have any doubts left as to Shijo allying himself with the Enemy?" Tasuki muttered grimly.

"At least they seem to have stopped their attacks on Kasen." Hatsui looked momentarily hopeful. "Do you see, Urumiya? He's flown off towards the west."

"They only attacked him because he was projecting Urumiya's _ki._ Now they're concentrating on finding us."

"But they can't see us under here, and as long as we keep blocking our _ki_—"

"They'll find us by figuring out where we're _not."_ Urumiya looked over at Tasuki, bearing no grudge for the earlier threat. "Don't forget, Shijo's soldiers are making their way through the maze, and it's only a matter of time before they find us. There's no other choice; we'll have to attack the beasts. How many do you think are out there?"

Tasuki studied the black spidery shadows running along the valley floor. "At least two. I'll use the tessen, and you—"

"No!" Urumiya interrupted. "Hatsui and I will go out to fight them on our own. You stay here with Miaka until we distract them, then take off, keeping to the left turning paths."

"Forget it! I'm not leaving you two to deal with those things alone."

"It's your job to protect the Priestess! Or didn't you just remind me of that at swordpoint?"

"I _am_ protecting her! It takes two seishi to bring down even one of those fuckers. If you try to kill two of them on your own—and if you _fail_—that'll leave me trying to take down both of those scumfucks while shielding Miaka at the same time. I'm telling you that our best chance is with all three of us together!"

"Fine, we're wasting time!" Hatsui said, unexpectedly taking charge. "Get your tessen ready, and on the count of three, we'll charge out all at once and try to take them by surprise."

He peered out from under the overhang, trying to catch a glimpse of the creatures' flight patterns, as Tasuki unholstered and brandished the tessen.

"There they are! On the count of one…_wait!"_

A silver disk came spinning out of nowhere, swooping low between the cliffs before spiraling up into the sky, intercepting one of the beasts and neatly decapitating it. The headless body crashed heavily onto the rocks, the impact shaking the ground as its thick, oily blood spattered and soaked into the dust.

"What the hell just—?"

Miaka looked up—and three mounted figures burst into view, black silhouettes against the bright midday sun. Her heart caught in her throat as she recognized the long braid of the rider who caught the flying disk in his grasp.

"Uruki-sama!" she gasped, tears of relief and gratitude springing to her eyes.

Namame, Inami, and Uruki raced their horses along the top of the opposite cliff. Miaka shrieked in dismay as they charged straight at a small crevice in the cliff, but their horses cleared the obstacle in one fluid, coordinated leap.

A metallic scream rent the air, and the second nightmare beast banked towards them, batwings blocking the sunlight and rows of daggerlike teeth glistening in its gaping mouth. The Genbu seishi pulled up their horses and stopped in an instant. Namame flung a weapon that looked like two small boulders tied at each end of a long cord, while Uruki sent a blast of wind to speed the spinning rocks, and Inami fired off a fountain of ice and snow directly into the creature's faceted eyes, their three seishi powers blending with consummate elegance and precision.

Namame's weapon twisted around the beast's neck, the boulders smashing into its skull, and its body crashed down to join the first beast crumpled at the base of the cliff.

Inami pointed downward, and a fountain of snow streamed out of her fingertips to join with rocks and earth that were erupting out of the ground to form a long, sloping ramp. One after the other, each of their horses leapt confidently onto its icy surface, sliding down the ramp until they reached the canyon floor in a display of stunning horsemanship.

"We thought you children might need our help," Uruki called pleasantly, while Namame summoned his rock weapon with a sharp gesture, making the cord unwind from the dead creature's neck.

"See, ye doubtin' bairns, we're not dead yet! Whoops, _duck!_"

All of the seishi and Miaka ducked low as Namame's rocks spun close overhead.

"_Idiote!"_ spat Inami as Namame caught his weapon with an awkward lunge. "Stupid son of a cross-eyed goat! We _will_ be dead if you do not control those rocks!"

"Ah, my love, this isn't the time for singing love songs. I know that you adore me, but we have to get these two youngsters across to Sairou right now. Who's going to lead?"

"Me and Urumiya," said Hatsui, as Kasen dove down to settle briefly on Urumiya's forearm. "He's the one who can find the way with Kasen's help."

Kasen burst into the air again under Urumiya's command, as the five Genbu seishi formed a protective echelon around Tasuki and Miaka. The band of warriors took off at full gallop through the widening gap between the cliffs.

"Soldiers up ahead!" shouted Urumiya. "Coming in from the left—only three men, probably scouts."

Swords sang out of scabbards, and in less than five seconds, the scouting party attacked. Uruki's disc flew out and decapitated one man instantly, while Inami ran another through with her sword. Miaka hid her face against Tasuki's back to block out the dull thunk of iron cutting through flesh and bone, but she couldn't block the acrid scent of freshly spilled blood.

_I'd forgotten what it's like to be in battle_, she thought.

Mercifully, the skirmish ended quickly, and they galloped further through the maze before Urumiya was forced to raise a hand and signal for a halt.

"We've got more trouble," he panted. "We're almost through this damn thing, but a full regiment is approaching the eastern opening of the canyons, while our only other exit, the southern branch, is blocked by a troop of at least fifty soldiers. We can try to outrun the regiment on the eastern side, but if we fail…"

"We need to go south to reach the Sairou Wall in any case, isn't that true?" Uruki was barely winded, his deepened male voice smooth and unhurried.

Hatsui frowned in his direction. "Er, you sound different, Uruki-sama—"

"Can Kasen at least find a way for us to sneak up behind the troop?" Tasuki interrupted impatiently.

"Yes, but we'll have to be quick. So are we decided?"

"_Presto,__andiamo! _We waste time!Inami tossed her head. "_In culo alla balena!"_

"'Up the arse of the whale it is, _cara mia_!" Namame grinned. "Just like old times!"

****

Two ranks of horse soldiers resplendent in the black and gold uniforms of Shijo's military force charged across a beaten earth field at their opponents, men clad in the same uniforms but with the added ornament of bright green scarves loosely fastened to their epaulets. Wooden swords flashed as the two forces met violently, then parted just as quickly, leaving four soldiers groaning on the ground.

"No, no, _NO_, you asses!" shouted Tomite, as Hikitsu rubbed his forehead in annoyance. "You're supposed to strike and counter at the same angle, and_ then_ try to snatch the scarves! Sergeant, go out there and show these idiots the maneuver for the tenth time—and tell them that the next man who screws up will go against me, except I'll be using a real sword to teach him a_ final_ lesson!"

"Yes, my lord!" The grizzled sergeant galloped out to shout instructions and abuse at the inexperienced men.

Tomite blew out an aggravated breath. "Once again, we've been relegated to training the greenest, most incompetent troops, wasting our time and probably theirs as well. These men are more likely to sprout wings and become celestial beings than they are to win the simplest battle! When the hell are we going to do anything significant around here?"

"Maybe it's just as well. Until we know what Shijo's up to, it's probably better that we don't do anything to make him stronger—including teaching his troops the best way to fight." Hikitsu shook his head. "But it's damned annoying to be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. We're not likely to find out what's going on with Imperial politics by questioning the local scorpions and mice."

"At least Sergeant Cho is helpful. Polite and respectful as well. Everyone else here treats us like carriers of a particularly nasty disease."

"He's probably a spy," warned Hikitsu.

"Yeah, I know," said Tomite, watching the sergeant put the soldiers through the maneuvers. "I can't help liking him anyway. Even if he's a spy, he's the only person around here to treat us decently."

The sound of thundering hooves drew their attention. Sergeant Cho left the troops to stand beside the seishi as two palace guards on horseback approached at full gallop, pulling up before the three men and sketching a barely polite salute.

"There's been an assassination attempt on Lord Shijo!" the first guard shouted breathlessly. "His Lordship is safe, but the assassins have escaped into the canyon maze. Take your men to the canyons and reinforce the troops at the southern exit!"

The guards turned to ride off, but Sergeant Cho gave a warning shout. "Hold there, you!" He galloped up to them. "How many assassins were there?"

"Four," replied the second guard, but the first gestured at him angrily. "We don't have time to deal with the likes of you! You'll do as told, and not delay us with your stupid questions!"

"Seems to me that _you_ are the stupid ones, letting assassins into the palace to take a shot at Lord Shijo, then letting them escape again. Not to mention that I'm doing you a kindness."

"What kindness?" snarled the first guard.

"Giving you a chance to mend your ways before Lord Tomite connects your eyeballs with the shaft of his arrow."

The guards looked up to see Tomite glaring at them, his bow drawn and an arrow already nocked and aimed straight at their heads. They turned pale and began stammering out pleas and excuses.

"Shut up!" barked Sergeant Cho. "Get down in the dirt like the pigs you are, and humbly beg forgiveness for your filthy manners! Then be on your way, and never let me see your ugly faces again!"

The guards did as commanded, dismounting and groveling with their foreheads pressed to the dust, then hurriedly remounted their horses and rode away, glancing fearfully over their shoulders until they were safely out of arrow range.

Tomite lowered his bow. "Thank you, Sergeant Cho."

"No need, my lord. It's time that someone put that scum in its place. A decent soldier shouldn't have to put up with garbage from the lowlifes that make up the palace guard."

"There aren't many around here who feel the need to give us even the slightest respect," remarked Hikitsu thoughtfully.

Sergeant Cho grinned, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes and mouth in his sun-darkened countenance. "Well, I was taught at my otou-san's knee that it was a foolish man who underestimated the Holy Warriors of Genbu."

Tomite matched his grin. "Then it's time we earned that respect and showed you what a Holy Warrior can do. Get the troops ready—we're going to see some real action at last!"

****

"Rekkaaaa shin'_eeeenn!_"

A huge gout of flame shot out at the four soldiers charging at them, incinerating the men. The soldiers had only a brief moment to scream in agony before falling silent and charred in the path. Tasuki lowered the tessen, panting heavily, while Miaka nearly gagged on the stench of burnt human flesh.

"Is that the last of them?" asked Hatsui.

"It's the last of this lot, but—"

"But the eastern regiment is almost here!" Uruimya shouted angrily. "We'll have to retreat; we can't defend ourselves out here in the open!"

Reforming their protective echelon around Tasuki and Miaka, Hatsui, Urumiya and the three elder Genbu spurred their horses up a narrower canyon to the right. The path climbed slightly before curving around to form an S-loop, and they turned in the shelter of the high cliff walls to make a stand against their pursuers.

There was a shout, and the first of the new soldiers rounded the curve, swords upraised in challenge.

Miaka kept her head down and hung on to Tasuki, catching brief glimpses of the battle raging all around her:

Tasuki's sword swinging above their heads, parrying arrows and sword thrusts with celestial speed.

Uruki flinging his disk with one hand and gesturing with the other, sending a blast of wind to accelerate Namame's stone weapon, while Inami sent a barrage of hailstones flying into the soldiers' faces.

Hatsui gasping with effort as he shot a lethal spray of black needles from his fingertips, taking down a soldier about to strike Urumiya from behind.

The green light of Genbu flashed bright against the shadowed cliffs as they doggedly fought against a seemingly endless numbers of attacking soldiers. Despite their fierce defense, the seishi party was pushed back, until they finally burst through onto an open plateau and into the bright light of day.

Catching a glimpse of Kasen diving through the open sky, Miaka followed his motion to the plain below them, a plain extending south to an enormous wall nearly ten meters tall, bristling with battlements and manned by guards clad in white tunics and silver armor.

The Sairou border.

****

Hikitsu and Tomite's troop of soldiers rounded the curve and paused at the intersecting paths, one trail leading up a steep rise and the other leveling out and veering off to the left. The horses skittered away from the charred corpses on the ground, the animals' nostrils flaring as smoke still rose in tiny wisps from the bodies.

Muted shouts and the clash of metal echoed faintly from somewhere above them, and a few of the reinforcements started towards the rising path eagerly.

"Hold!" shouted Sergeant Cho, and the impulsive men reined in with abashed expressions. "Let me go to scout ahead, my lords, and I'll report back within the minute."

"Be careful!"

"To be sure, my Lord Hikitsu. Mine might be an old hide, but I'm nonetheless fond of it, and I do my best to keep it intact." Cho saluted them with a cocky grin and galloped up the rising path. True to his word, he returned shortly thereafter, but his expression was troubled. "My lords, I need you to see something. Have the troops wait here."

Hikitsu looked over at Tomite, raising an eyebrow in query, but Tomite shook his head slightly and mouthed, 'I trust him.'

"All right then. Soldiers, wait here for our command!" Hikitsu joined Tomite in following Cho up the curving trail. Shortly after rounding the first curve, they began to encounter more bodies of Shijo's troops, many of the dead missing their limbs or heads, and most of them flayed to the bone.

Tomite reined in his horse above a particularly grisly corpse. "Burnt in some instances, flayed in others…these men died a hard death. You're right, Sergeant Cho, we're up against some savage fighters. Almost unnatural in their power, I'd say."

"That's not all, my lord. Please continue this way." Cho urged them forward at a brisk trot.

Within moments, the path met and ran alongside a sheer wall. The sounds of the battle raging above them were much clearer here, although the combatants remained beyond their sight.

"There!" said Cho, as a flash of green light briefly lit the air above them, accompanied by a whoosh of air and a man's cut-off scream. "And again!"

"Green light?" asked Tomite—then met Hikitsu's horrified gaze. Hikitsu tore off his eyepatch, revealing the same green hue glowing from his right eye.

"Damn it, we're fighting on the wrong side! Cho, get down there and tell the men—" Tomite paused, realizing that he was asking the sergeant to commit high treason.

"Tell them whatever you choose, Sergeant Cho. I would suggest sending them back to the castle to protect Lord Shijo, but you may do whatever your conscience commands." Hikitsu crushed his eyepatch in his fist. "However, if you choose to bring them here, you will be meeting us as shichiseishi—and as you can see from the men lying here on the ground, the Genbu seishi give their enemies no quarter."

Cho turned his horse to face downhill but turned back to meet their gazes with one equally as fierce. "You'll meet me again, my lords…and then you will see what I'm made of."

He started off down the hill as the two seishi spurred their horses onto the winding uphill path.

****

The Shijo soldier hit the ground heavily, clawing at the ropes wound around his throat by Namame's rocks, while Hatsui spun to see the last remaining soldier rise up behind Namame, raising his sword above the grey-streaked head. Black needles flew through the air, embedding themselves in the soldier's eyes, throat, and heart, and with a strangled cry, the soldier toppled off the edge of the sheer cliff.

Winded and gasping for air, Hatsui and Namame supported each other as they climbed wearily back to their companions.

"Explain again why we decided to carry out this last ambush on foot instead of horseback, laddie?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," panted Hatsui, drawing a shout of laughter from Namame and a clap on the shoulder that nearly drove him to his knees.

Urumiya and the rest had dismounted and now stood staring out over the expanse of land separating them from the Sairou border. At least one hundred meters of open land lay below them, open land that was rapidly filling with Shijo's reserve troops. Rank after rank of soldiers aligned themselves before the Sairou wall to form an impenetrable barrier of black and gold. On the battlements above them, the white-clad Sairou border guard held their weapons ready and cautiously watched the movement of the Hokkan troops below.

"So?" asked Hatsui as he rejoined them.

"So we appear to be royally fucked," Tasuki replied as he scowled at the impossible distance.

"Won't the Sairou guard help us out?"

"How the fuck are they supposed to know who we are, or even what's going on? They can't initiate an attack against Shijo's troops unless they wanna make a formal declaration of war between Sairou and Hokkan. Stupid as Shijo is, you betcher ass he ain't gonna let his troops move against Sairou until he has more muscle from the Emperor or the Enemy."

Urumiya's frustration boiled over. "This isn't the path I'd chosen for us! We weren't supposed to end up here, but those damned soldiers forced us back up this hill!"

"Like as not, that one regiment was made up of members of the Emperor's own elite troops; their fighting style was more akin to those bastards we took down back at our house. Don't blame yerself, laddie. We did our best, and at least you bought us some time to make another plan," said Namame.

"I'll send a message to Kasen to find out if there's any other way across the border." Urumiya tilted his face up towards his eagle, and the great bird swooped across the plain, ignoring the stray arrows shot futilely in his direction.

Suddenly Kasen banked toward the tallest Sairou watchtower, flying straight through the open window that was carved into the white stone. Urumiya, startled, gave a brief shout but fell silent immediately, his eyes rolling back so that only the whites showed.

"Urumiya!" Hatsui shook him violently.

"No, wait!" cried Urumiya. "There's a light…white…_white_…?" Suddenly his voice dropped into a trancelike monotone. "Send them here. Get them to the wall, and we can help you. Get closer to the wall…"

He suddenly began coughing, breaking his trance and returning to normal.

"Get them to the wall, is that all we need to do?" inquired Namame sarcastically. "Only a couple hundred troops between us and that accursed wall, not to mention the fact that we're a good distance up this cliff, but who's bothered by small details, eh?"

Inami swore profusely in her own tongue and made the sign of the evil eye at the troops below, while Uruki placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "We can't waste time on getting upset. We must concentrate and think up a plan."

"We need to build a bridge and get over it," blurted out Miaka. She blushed as all eyes turned to her in surprise. "I'm sorry, that was a saying I learned recently when I went to…went to… um, I can't remember." She shook her head, embarrassed.

"Wait, she's right!" Hatsui said. "A bridge—can you three create another ramp from snow and rocks like you did when you joined up with us? A ramp that might take Tasuki and Miaka across to the top of the Sairou wall?"

Namae's features grew grim. "Some years back, laddie, that would've been just a minor effort for the three of us—but I'll not lie ta ye. This battle and the one with the Emperor's men has taken a fair bit out of us, and even with our powers combined, I'm not sure that Uruki, Inami, and I could make a bridge half as long as you need it."

"What if Urumiya and I added our _ki_ forces to yours? We haven't tried that before—"

"But it could work," interrupted Tasuki. "The Suzuku Seven used to combine forces when we were desperate, at the last battle with Nakago in Miaka's world, and…" he paused, glancing at Miaka, "…you know."

"Let's do it." Uruki set down his disk weapon. "It's a grave risk, but we have no other choice. We'll hope that we can get Tasuki and Miaka at least close enough for the person in the tower to give the help he offered."

Uruki took position between Inami and Namame and caught their hands in his own. They raised their linked hands as one, closing their eyes and focusing their power. Urumiya and Hatsui stood behind them, gripping the shoulders of the elder seishi as they sent their _ki_ power.

Suddenly the ground exploded right at the edge of the cliff, and a blast of snow and ice coated the flying chunks of earth, forming a narrow but solid ramp that began extending out over the open plain.

"Go now!" gasped Uruki. "And Genbu's blessings be upon you both!"

Tasuki pulled Miaka up onto Makaze and spurred the stallion onto the partially formed bridge. Miaka gripped Tasuki tightly and closed her eyes, unwilling to see the sheer drop on either side of the ramp.

Hatsui suddenly turned his head. "I hear horses approaching!"

Right then, the bridge of snow and rock began to disintegrate at the edges. Makaze stumbled as one of his hooves sank into the snow, but he gamely regained his balance and kept charging up the ramp.

"Keep your focus, damn it!" hissed Uruki through gritted teeth.

*

High up in the Sairou watchtower, delicate, gnarled fingers caught a length of brightly woven string and formed an intricate knot, the colors of the string almost glowing in the intense blaze of white light.

*

The hoofbeats ceased, replaced by the sound of running feet. Hatsui felt sweat forming on his brow, but he kept his focus forward, willing the bridge to keep forming ahead of Makaze's flying hooves while bracing himself for a sword cut from behind.

Suddenly there was surge of_ ki_ beneath his fingertips, and he heard a grunt of relief from Namame as fresh power flowed through all of them, creating a hard, unbreachable surface on the ramp.

*

Makaze sensed the new strength of the bridge, his neck extending as he opened his stride, his legs bunching for a powerful leap at the rapidly approaching wall.

*

Guard captains on both sides of the wall stared at the astonishing sight of the huge horse approaching on the magical bridge. They shook themselves from their stunned inaction and shouted commands at their troops. Archers raised their weapons to track the riders' progress, and drew back their bowstrings.

*

The delicate fingers flew across the string, weaving intricate knots while twirling and catching the porcelain weight fastened to one end, and, with a quick, decisive movement, tied the end to the beginning to form a complete loop.

*

A hundred bowstrings twanged as their arrows were released, and Makaze kicked off in a last desperate leap for the wall. Tasuki realized with a sinking heart that they were just a little too far…

At that moment, a golden, transparent globe completely surrounded the horse and riders, lifting them as lightly as a bubble while a gentle wind sent them drifting over the wall. Arrows bounced uselessly off the mystical shield, and with another light gust, they were out of range of the Hokkan archers and firmly in Sairou territory.

****

"Hurray!" shouted Hatsui, leaping up and punching the air in triumph. "They're away!" and he turned and hugged the man behind him, knocking his fur hat askew.

"Get off me!" growled the unfamiliar youth while straightening his hat. "Try that one more time, and I'll knock you all the way back to your basket!"

"I…what…when…who _are_ you?"

Namame, pale and sweating but with his usual cocky grin, took a long look at Hikitsu's eyepatch and Tomite's wild, dark hair. "If memory doesn't deceive me, I seem to recall these two from tapestries I've seen back in the day, not to mention that extra surge of power we all felt at the end. Genbu no Tomite and Hikitsu, am I right?"

Hikitsu gave a small, polite bow in acknowledgment.

"That's impossible!" protested Hatsui. "Even if they survived the attack on Mount Gyoukuei, the last time we saw them, they were just little kids!"

"Whether you want to believe it or not, it's still us." Tomite looked up at Namame. "I think that I recognize most of the others, but I don't remember you."

"Genbu no Namame, at your service...as you've been at ours."

"The little rock man?"

"Not so little and flesh instead of rock, but other than that, you've got it straight, laddie."

Inami turned around, leaning on Uruki's shoulder for support. Her face was drawn and exhausted but her eyes still sparkled. "_Sorprendente!_ So, you are not dead; that is good! But you are not _bambini_ either. Explain this, _immediatamente!"_

"Patience, _mia cara,_ you are frightening the children," Uruki chided gently, pushing his braid back over his shoulder with a weary gesture.

"Rimudo!" Tomite's eyes went wide. "What happened to you? You look—"

"Old, yes, this is a thing that happens to people when they don't die in their youth. Also, I'm no longer Roun Rimudo, although I'm still Uruki. But explanations will have to wait until we're safely out of this tangle. I suspect that the soldiers down there might have a slight grievance against us."

"Pah!" said Namame with high good humor. "What can a few boggin' soldiers do against the full might of the Genbu Seven? Let's be on our way, for now that Tasuki and Miaka are safe in Sairou, we have our own duties. We've a rebel army to raise!"

"Tasuki and Miaka? Is that who those veiled people were?" Tomite punched a fist into the opposite hand. "Damn, I would've liked to have met up with Tasuki again! Wouldn't he be surprised to see us now, eh, Hikitsu?"

Hikitsu shook his head slightly. "Doesn't matter. The important thing is that we were able to help them get away. Now we have another task, it seems." His mouth finally curved in a genuine smile for the first time in his new life, as he looked at the seishi gathered around him. "The Genbu Seven, is it? It's been a long time…a very long time."

Hoofbeats resounded from the nearby cliffs, and a man clad in black and gold appeared in the path. He dismounted and bowed low before the Genbu seishi.

"One of Shijo's men?" asked Urumiya, as Kasen shifted nervously on his arm.

"I suspect that he's one of ours," said Hikitsu. "Sergeant Cho, rise and answer one question truthfully. Are you a spy?"

Cho lifted his chin, his demeanor proud and unflinching. "Yes, my lord Hikitsu, I am a spy—but not for the Shijo upstart. I was sent here over a year ago by a group of Hokkan nobles who wanted to know what plans and alliances Shijo might be forming. I answer only to the leader of those nobles, Lord Asukai…and to the faithful servants of Genbu."

"I'll vouch for him," said Tomite. "If he were going to betray us, he would've brought a full company of Shijo's soldiers with him."

"Come with us, then, laddie." Namame waved an arm expansively. "We're a small rebellion to be sure, but we hope to become a major obstacle to Shijo and the Enemy before all this is through. Just be ready for a bit of a skirmish as we try to escape this accursed territory."

The Genbu Seishi and their new ally turned to ride down the hilly path. Urumiya released Kasen to scout ahead but reined in his horse as he noticed Hatsui standing where they left him. He trotted up to his partner.

"Something wrong, Otouto-kun?"

"How did Tomite know about my basket?" Hatsui burst out. "Did you tell him?"

"Don't be stupid! I met him just now, at the same time that you did! It's probably something that he remembered from your former lives together."

"I guess," replied Hatsui disconsolately. "But did you see…the other thing?"

"What other thing?"

"I think…I think that Uruki-sama is a cross-dressing man!"

"Oh, for Genbu's sake!" Urumiya cuffed Hatsui in the head.

****

Tasuki and Miaka sat unmoving on Makaze's back within the globe that had landed gently in the courtyard of the Sairou fortress. They gazed at the Sairou soldiers who were pointing their spears at the mysterious intruders, and the Sairou soldiers regarded them just as curiously.

"Stand down!" rasped a man's voice, and the soldiers immediately lowered their spears.

The ranks of soldiers parted, allowing a path through their midst as they bowed their heads respectfully. A man, stooped with great age but moving with deliberate grace, walked through the crowd, supporting the arm of an elderly woman who was shorter than Miaka. The woman lifted her face and smiled at them. Miaka was struck by her delicate beauty. She had thin silver hair coiled in intricate braids and fine features covered in tiny wrinkles, like a porcelain portrait that had been cracked but still displayed the exquisiteness of its subject. Her most striking features, however, were her still-brilliant green eyes, as bright and perspicacious as Miaka's own.

The woman held up a looped string between her fragile fingers, and with a single tug, released the loop. At the same instant, the golden shield around Tasuki and Miaka disappeared.

Tasuki swung Miaka down and dismounted immediately. To Miaka's surprise, he dropped down in a deep bow, touching his forehead to the ground as if in the presence of royalty.

"Thank you for saving us. It is an honor to meet you at last, Byakko no Miko no Seishi Karasuki. Byakko no Miko no Seishi Amefuri."

"Rise, young one. There is no need to bow before us, for you are of no less honor…Suzuku no Miko no Seishi Tasuki." Karasuki's green eyes met Miaka's above her face veil, seeming to look straight through the concealing folds of the boyish disguise. She smiled in amusement.

"And this, I take it, is the Suzaku no Miko."

****

****

**Glossary of Terms:**

Edjit (Scottish) – idiot

Bairns (Scottish) - children

Ley di oh (Scottish) –Aberdeonian game like hide and seek

Awd (Scottish) –old

Ki (Japanese) –life force

Presto, andiamo! (Italian) – Hurry, let's go!

In culo alla balena! (Italian) – literally: Up the ass of the whale! An encouraging shout, like "Let's go get 'em!"

Cara mia (Italian) – my darling

Sorprendente! (Italian) – Amazing!

Immediatamente! (Italian) – Immediately!

Boggin' (Scottish) – filthy, nasty

**Disclaimer:** The seishi powers, life histories, and characteristics of Byakko no Karasuki and Byakko no Amefuri are the original creations of Kaze-chan, as described in her epic novel of the Byakko arc entitled, "It Was A Normal Day in the Market." They are used here with the express permission of Kaze-chan, and may not be used anywhere else without her permission.

*

**Author's Note: (10-30-06)** Before I start on my usual litany of apologies and excuses, I have to express my profound gratitude to Kaze-chan for permitting me to use her wonderfully three-dimensional characters in this fic. It has been over four years since I fell in love with her Byakko fanfiction, "It Was A Normal Day in the Market." "Market" was a rare accomplishment, since back in '02, few FY authors tackled the Byakko or Genbu story arcs. Kaze-chan, at the tender age of seventeen (!!), created such a richly textured vision of the legend of Suzuno Oosugi and her seven Byakko seishi that for me and many other readers, her characters and storyline will always reverberate in our hearts.

So being able to revisit Karasuki and Amefuri feels like revisiting old friends; I'm wallowing in nostalgia here!

Unfortunately, for those of you who might have grown fond of them, this is the last appearance of the Genbu seishi in the Hidden Paths saga for quite a while. Like Tasuki and Miaka, we'll have to leave them behind as we travel into Sairou. However, Namame and Company will keep busy raising rebel forces against Shijo and the Enemy, while Hatsui works on making some time with the daughter of a certain Hokkan noble.

Before I left the Genbu behind, however, I learned a few interesting facts. As I was reading through the translations of the Genbu Kaiden to confirm Uruki's original family name, I was startled to find a section in which little Hatsui unfolds a map of the Hokkan for Tomite and Takiko. In this scene, Tomite explains that the ShiJinTenChiSho is comprised of four major countries, plus _twenty-four other smaller countries!_ So once again, completely by accident, I find that canon FY as written by Watase Yuu supports my random fanficcy assertion that there are more countries in the ShiJin than Kutou, Konan, Sairou, and Hokkan. This makes it possible that Inami _could_ have come from a foreign land and speak a different language, as does Namame. So there. :P

Now on a more serious note, you might have noticed some harsh depictions of the effects of battle between the seishi and Shijo's men. I deliberately made the violence more graphic to drive home the realism of Hidden Paths as opposed to normal conventions used in anime. Yes, Tasuki's tessen does more than humorously singe Tamahome—it burns men to death as well as demons. There's nothing cartoonish about Uruki's razor winds or Hatsui's needles or any sharp weapon wielded by the seishi. They are warriors; they are under attack, and they're willing to kill to protect Miaka. This is a truth that Miaka is forced to face along with you, my patient readers.

Point made, I think, so onward and outward. What's coming up in the near future? I'm afraid that for the month of November, I'll be taken up with National Novel Writers Month (NaNoWriMo) in which I will struggle desperately to kick out 50,000 words of my original novel (this in addition to hosting Thanksgiving dinner, decorating for Christmas, going to parent-teacher conferences, and taking my best-beloved to hospital for some hopefully-minor surgery.) So unfortunately, I won't have time to work on HP 17 until December.

But when I do—expect the long-awaited return of Chichiri, the Doctor, and Joss in a hair-raising adventure (sneak preview: anyone up for slipping past Gallifreyan transduction barriers?), as well as finding out what Tokaki and Subaru have been up to. I hope to include more storylines than just those two, but we'll have to see what pans out; after all, it's unkind of me to keep expecting you lot to slog through chapters of 15,000 words.

Did you notice that this note is a little short on excuses and reasons for my long absence, as well as lacking promises about the timing of the next update? This is all to the good, I believe, because the gods laugh whenever I make definitive plans and promises. :P

Before I go, however, I must thank my three wonderful beta-readers: Kryssa, Purple Mouse, and Ryuen. Together, they attacked problems with grammar (and, I'm embarrassed to admit in one instance, spelling), syntax, and story flow, and helped me polish this chapter to the best it could be. They have my abject gratitude for their valuable input.

I also need to thank Adam, my coworker, for lending me his copy of "Wicked Italian" all those months ago. Without that valuable and snarky little guidebook, Inami's exclamations wouldn't be half as fun. So thanks, Adam, and _"in culo alla balena!"_ to the end!

Finally, there is one promise that I _will _make here. Now that I've got this chapter uploaded with a couple of days to spare before NaNoWriMo, I'm going back to R&R all of the wonderful FY fanfics that I've been forced to ignore in my mad efforts to get this chapter done. So here I come, Jessica, Inuphantom, Nikki (I'm 25 through the promised beta-read - -;) and anyone else I've neglected.

See you soon!

Ja ne!

Roku


	17. Close Enemies

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

**Chapter 17. Close Enemies**

Casting a brief glance at the pulsating blue light above his console, the Doctor carefully clicked the analog counter to a familiar series of coordinates. The glass column began to rise and fall with its usual accompanying groan—and abruptly stopped, giving a near-human moan of protest.

"Come now, old girl, I know you're not pleased with our destination, but there's no help for it." Putting on his most cajoling tone, he leaned in and purred into a small but ornate grill on the hexagonal console. "I wouldn't even think of attempting this again, if not for your extraordinary proficiency in circumventing the transduction barriers."

"After traveling with you, Doctor, I know better than to write her off as an inanimate object...but if you slip her the tongue, I just might lose it right here and now."

The Doctor leapt back from the console, face flushing red. Joss smirked briefly at his discomfiture, remembering how he'd hated to be caught showing his affection for the TARDIS. To her, it was no big deal; after all, humans openly showed affection for their cars, giving them names and assigning personality traits—and the TARDIS was considerably more sentient than a car.

_Probably more sentient than me,_ thought Joss ruefully as she kicked off her shoes and sprawled across the comfortable sofa. Scented steam rose from the silver teapot on the low table, and Joss spent a moment savoring its fragrance while idly wondering how the Doctor always managed to have a pot on whenever anyone wandered into the console room.

Or maybe she should thank the TARDIS for that.

"You seem lost in thought," the Doctor remarked as he seated himself gracefully beside her, his embarrassment lost in his usual mercurial mood changes. He had shed his frock coat and cravat sometime earlier and was in his 'work clothes' of shirtsleeves and waistcoat, still managing to look as if he'd just stepped off the cover of a men's fashion magazine.

Joss took a moment to compare herself to him: the Doctor's casual elegance contrasting with her schlumpy awkwardness.

"Ah, depressed thoughts at that."

She frowned at him. "Didn't you say that you were going to stop trespassing in people's mental back yards? I thought it was a New Year's Resolution—"

"Of many years ago. I tried to keep it; I failed." He smiled charmingly.

"Don't think that you'll get around me with those baby blues…greens…ah, whatever the hell color your eyes are. You're gonna have to work harder than that." She put her feet up in his lap, and the Doctor obligingly began massaging her ankles.

Joss closed her eyes and sighed in bliss. "That's it; I'm never leaving here. As long as you keep doing that, I'm going to hide out in the TARDIS and travel with you forever. I'll be the companion you can never get rid of."

A brief, sad smile flickered across the Doctor's face. "Promise?" he asked softly.

She regarded him from between slitted eyelids. "Now my mood is bringing you down. Sorry, Doctor; whining stopping right now."

"You must start whining before you can stop. I haven't heard you utter a word of complaint."

"Yeah, but your ears must be ringing from the high-pitched buzz of my mental pity party."

"Tell me."

His simple, sympathetic phrase cut through her defenses, and suddenly she was blinking tears out of her eyes. "No, you tell me, Doctor. Tell me how I can wait seven years of my life for one man, then screw it all up inside of thirty minutes."

He didn't reply, merely pressing a spot beneath her left ankle. Oddly, the tense bunching of muscles near her right shoulder blade suddenly relaxed, and she drew in a deep breath.

"It's my fault, I know. I put too much into…I dreamed too long. I made up this entire fantasy of what it would be like if I ever found him again. It wasn't complicated," she laughed ruefully. "Pretty much picking up right where we left off. I forgot that for a fantasy to become real, it has to be shared by both…" she choked up and fell silent.

Suddenly, she felt a touch on her cheek, a soothing caress that calmed her turbulent emotions. Her eyes flew up to meet the Doctor's gaze, but his head was bent over his task, his fingers gently massaging her metatarsals.

It had still been him, though. He couldn't fool her.

"Thanks, Doctor." She leaned forward and caught his hands, swinging her legs down and facing him. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. We've got a mission to complete, right? So I can deal; after all, I've had plenty of practice in the past few years."

"So you're going to give up on him, just like that?" The Doctor's eyes glinted strangely. "He must have done something unforgivable to warrant such immediate abandonment."

"No!" Joss fought back her sudden surge of annoyance. This was going to be one long mission if she kept sniping at both her companions. "No," she repeated quietly. "It wasn't his fault—I already told you that. On the other hand, I can take a hint. It's not a question of abandonment; I just have better things to do than act like a crazed stalker chasing random magicians through the corridors of the TARDIS."

The Doctor's lips trembled, and Joss didn't know whether to be glad or annoyed that she'd amused him. Fortunately, he didn't laugh. "May I take it that you made advances, and he, er, had trouble reciprocating?"

"God, Doctor, you make it sound like we're talking about erectile dysfunction."

The Doctor rubbed his forehead. "I'd almost forgotten your very original way of speaking."

"That's okay, you'll get used to it again. Anyway, to answer your question: yeah, I made advances but never got close enough to suss out erectile dysfunction or lack thereof, because he freaked and made like a rabbit—the running kind, not the other type."

The Doctor's face was completely hidden in his hands and his shoulders were shaking suspiciously, but his voice was normal, if a bit muffled. "Odd behavior, that, coming from a man who's been a monk for the past fourteen years."

"_What?"_ Joss grabbed the Doctor's shoulder and stared into his limpid, innocent gaze. "Do you mean that I've been hitting on a man of the cloth? Oh, God, I'm going to a special hell when I die!"

"Come now, Joss, surely you haven't forgotten the last time the three of us were together—monastery, acolyte robes, and all?"

"I thought that it was a phase or a temporary training thing…He doesn't dress like a monk!" she wailed. "How was I supposed to know that I was trying to corrupt a celibate?"

"First off, his usual clothes are in the wash, so to speak. Next, he's not a Christian monk, nor a Buddhist one for that matter, so rules of celibacy are not a given."

Joss stretched her legs out across the low table, taking care to avoid the tea tray while tapping her feet together moodily. "What difference does it make? Celibate or not, he's not interested in me, so it all comes down to the same thing in the end."

"Are you certain you want to give up on him? Didn't you once say that nothing worth having ever comes easily?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I don't remember talking in such lame clichés."

"Sometimes clichés become clichés because they hold an element of universal truth, Joss."

"What are you saying, then? That I _should_ go stalking him through the corridors of the TARDIS?"

"I'm saying that perhaps you should give him and yourself time to adjust to being together again before demanding an immediate resolution. The truth lies in both your hearts, Joss, if only you'll give it the time and space it needs to come out."

She glanced sideways at him, a reluctant smile quirking her lips. "Who am I to argue with the ultimate authority on Time and Space? So I'm to possess myself with patience, eh? That's what my sisters are always yelling at me."

"They might have a point."

"O-_kay_, on that note, I think I'll leave you for awhile." She stood up and kissed him on the top of his chestnut waves. "The next thing I know, you'll have me agreeing that my sisters are always right, and_ that _will result in my head exploding from cognitive dissonance. What I need right now is a really good shower, hopefully one with lots of interesting attachments."

The Doctor hid his face in his hands again. "Why must you tell me these things?" He peeked out at her between his fingers, unsuccessfully hiding his smile. "Very well, second corridor on your left, the door nearest the end."

"I was talking about getting myself clean, nothing more, Doctor! You have a filthy mind for a Time Lord!" She was still laughing as she exited the control room.

He remained in place for a few minutes, grinning after her. Savoring the cheerful atmosphere the TARDIS acquired when there were companions aboard, he poured a cup of tea and added a second lump of sugar and a dollop of milk just to celebrate. As he watched the milk swirl into the dark liquid, he became aware of another presence in the control room.

He could feel power thrumming below the surface, the steady pulse of concentrated psychic energy held in check by a dominant will. The TARDIS hummed imperceptibly in response, recognizing the source as friendly—but as always, keeping a quietly alert watch on a being who had the ability to cause substantial damage to even her nearly-indestructible physical form, and whose psychic state was showing signs of faint instability.

The Doctor sent a brief soothing message to her, then patted the sofa cushion beside him. "Sit down, Houjun."

His second human companion crossed the room in a few strides and seated himself beside the Doctor, the controlled movement contrasting with the tense, uncertain look on his face. "Doctor, I…I…" He took a breath, bringing his surface turmoil under control. "How can I wait for one woman for years, and yet manage to ruin it all within five minutes?"

The Doctor bit back a smile, irresistibly reminded of a time fourteen years past, a brief journey fraught with peril and betrayals. Despite the darkness, however, there'd been periods of light and joy, days when his most pressing concern had been how to get two passionate, diverse personalities to overcome their differences long enough to join together.

'_La plus ça change,'_ thought the Doctor and, taking care to shield his amusement and nostalgia from his companion's percipience, placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"Tell me."

****

Joss wandered back into the control room, idly rubbing a towel through her unruly waves and humming an old show tune. She was clad in a black Echo & the Bunnymen tee and loose green cargs bedecked with multiple pockets up and down the legs. "Hey, Doctor," she called, seeing him absorbed in reading the old analog dials on the console, "the TARDIS showed me this room with these really cool retro eighties clothes, so I hope you don't mind that I borrowed—" The words died on her lips as she finally noticed Houjun sitting quietly on the sofa, legs crossed beneath him as he cradled a cup of tea in both hands. He'd obviously cadged his own wardrobe from the TARDIS secondhand shop, his elegant white silk Chinese shirt contrasting with cheap blue cotton drawstring trousers.

"Um, hi." _Lame,_ thought Joss, _very lame._ But for some reason, words stuck in her throat, and it wasn't only because of the earlier embarrassing scene between them. There was something very different about Houjun—_Chichiri_—something she'd overlooked during the joy of reunion.

Fourteen years had passed for him since they'd last met, and she could feel the weight of every one of those years. He wasn't the young, unsure magician anymore, nor the vulnerable, pensive young man. Sitting across from her on the couch, he radiated control and quiet power, and Joss suddenly wondered where she'd ever gotten the nerve to seize him by his shirt and try to kiss him.

It was as insane as leaning over the edge of a boat, trying to catch the ocean in her embrace, ignoring the fact that it could take her, pull her under without the slightest effort—

_Time to get off the drama llama!_ Joss scolded herself and deliberately sat down in the armchair closest to him. "So how's tricks?" she enquired cheerfully as she set her towel on the fine brocade.

Tricks. Duh.

"Tricks?" asked Chichiri, echoing her thoughts. "Um…the tea is very good."

"Oh, is it? Um, good…that's fine. I'm glad." If this conversation got any lamer, they'd be forced to put it in traction. _Help me, Doctor!_

The Doctor must have already been on his way to join them, because he suddenly appeared behind Chichiri, leaning against the sofa. "Those clothes were left behind by Ace," he said, answering her earlier question. "The TARDIS must be fond of you if she showed you Ace's old room—or perhaps she notes a certain resemblance. Help yourself to whatever you'd like, Joss; I enjoy the nostalgia of seeing those garments again." Moving around the sofa to seat himself next to Chichiri, he reached for the teapot. "Just like old times, don't you think?" he asked happily.

"Actually, no," said Joss with her usual honesty. "For some reason, my conversational skills seem to have deteriorated over the past seven years; I don't remember being this incompetent at forming a simple sentence before."

"You're not—" started Chichiri.

"Don't be silly," the Doctor interrupted. "We all need to learn to fit together again, so to speak."

_Not you two,_ sulked Joss but decided to keep her thoughts to herself for once. That is, as much as one could while sitting in the presence of two mind-readers.

Oh, damn.

She searched her companions' expressions, but they both looked innocently confused. She'd bet good money on the Doctor stepping lightly through her mental landscape, at least. Feeling slightly vindictive, she deliberately pictured the most perverse sado-masochistic sexual act she'd ever heard of, leather, whips, and twelve-inch sex toys being applied with enthusiasm. However, the Doctor continued drinking his tea, completely unruffled. Joss finally realized that such acts probably served as royal courting practices on some distant planet. Hard to shock a Time Lord who'd seen everything in the galaxy at least ten times over.

Turning to ask Chichiri a question, she was surprised to see his cheeks flaring bright red.

"_Hah!"_ she cried, pointing at him. "You _were_ snooping!"

"To be fair, Joss," the Doctor said mildly, "you were doing what your people call 'broadcasting' rather loudly. It is difficult to ignore when one mentally, er, _shouts_ such an image."

"Oh shit." Joss buried her face in her hands.

"See? Just like old times," the Doctor grinned. His expression quickly sobered. "However, we have to leave off fun for the time being—"

"Fun. Right," came out muffled from between Joss's hands.

"—and catch everyone up on what's been happening that has triggered this reunion. Houjun?"

Chichiri began talking quietly of the growing threat to the ShiJin, his voice tinged with sadness as he told of the loss of the younger seishi, growing husky as he spoke of Tamahome.

"I remember him," Joss said, lifting her face from her hands and speaking softly into the silence. "He was a good kid; took care of his family and all."

"Yes, he did," said Chichiri, suddenly glad Joss didn't know the fate of Tamahome's original family.

"So at this moment, little Shun'u is running across the ShiJin, trying to protect your priestess from the beasts?" Joss shook her head. "God save them both!"

Chichiri smiled at the implied insult to Tasuki. "He's not so little anymore, Joss. He'll do fine, believe me."

"Just as long as your priestess's ears hold out. Or have his language skills improved as he's aged?"

"Well,_ improved_ might be a matter of interpretation, but Miaka is used to him. Very fond of him, in fact. Just like you are."

"Like hell," said Joss, secretly enjoying bantering with Chichiri again. "I don't like that mouthy little red-headed brat at all. Think I'll give him a noogie when we meet up again. We _are_ going after them, right?" She was unable to keep a note of anxiety out of her voice.

Chichiri smiled. "I assume we'll try to track them down, although—"

"No, I'm sorry." The Doctor spoke up for the first time since Chichiri had started his narrative. "We have more pressing problems, and we can't spare the time to search for Shun'u."

"Why not? We have to make sure they're safe!" Joss was outraged, but Chichiri merely waited for the Doctor to explain.

"Joss, there will be no safe place in two worlds—or perhaps anywhere in the galaxy—if we don't deal with the Swarm decisively. I told Houjun we had to assemble the original team, and we have yet to contact our last member."

"Our last member? Who are you—" Joss' eyes went dark. "You've got to be joking."

Chichiri remained silent, although his eye narrowed slightly with thought.

"Listen to me, both of you. There is no being in all of the known universe who knows more about the Swarm than he does—no one who has ever survived direct contact with them, I should say."

"He tried to kill Houjun!" burst out Joss.

"He was ill, not in his right mind. Even his TARDIS was sick; you must remember that, Joss."

"How are we supposed to work with someone we can't trust?"

"You don't know he's untrustworthy. It's been years, and I'd sent him to a healing place; he must've changed in the interim."

"He might've changed for the worse, and you won't admit it until we all wake up dead. This whole mess is his fault—it's _his_ fault so many have died in the ShiJin and now on Earth!"

"So he should be the one to put it right." Chichiri's calm tones cut across the heated argument, effectively silencing both combatants. He smiled at them, wrapped in a cloak of serenity and wisdom—and Joss had never felt further from him in all the time they'd known each other.

He was a monk. He was a celestial warrior. She was nothing special, just a woman with a quick temper and a big mouth.

"This isn't about us," said Chichiri, and Joss wondered if he were addressing her thoughts. "It's about the survival of the universe, and we must accept our allies whoever and wherever they may be."

"I'm scared," whispered Joss. "He hurt you so bad last time—both of you."

"He has no more power over me, Joss, and I doubt he ever had power over the Doctor. We have to talk to him before we can judge whether he'll be a help or hindrance."

"Houjun is right." The Doctor kept his voice low and gentle. "But we must all agree; we can't proceed as a team if you truly object to him, Joss."

Joss's expression crumpled, but she swallowed hard and kept her voice steady. "So if I don't agree, you'll drop me off back on Earth?"

The Doctor moved swiftly to her side at the same time Chichiri seized her hand. "No! Of course not!"

"We three are the core team," insisted the Doctor. "We'll never succeed without you, Joss."

"You're just sayin' that," said Joss, trying not to smile or cry or both.

"It's the truth," insisted Chichiri. "We won't risk losing you, even if it means avoiding…him."

She looked from one man to the other. "So it's my decision, then. The fate of the universe may rest on what he knows about the Swarm, but it's my decision as to whether we even contact him, right?"

Chichiri and the Doctor nodded slowly.

"You guys sure know how to make a girl feel important." Joss broke out in a thousand-watt grin. "What are we waiting for? Let's go get him!"

****

**The Zero Room **

"You ever have those dreams about getting away from it all?" Joss stuck her hand out, noticing how its edges seemed to fade into the white nothingness surrounding her.

"At times."

"Me, too. But this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Why not? It seems…ideal. At least as far as being a literal interpretation of 'getting away' and 'from everything'."

"Yeah, well, that's the problem. To get away, you have to have some idea of what you're getting away _from._ A horizon would be nice; hell, right now, I'd settle for some walls. You know what? To hell with the walls—just a piece of flooring would do!"

"You're starting to panic." Chichiri looked up from his previously meditative pose.

"Nuh-uh. Not me. I'm not one of those stupid emo panicking little—!"

"Calm down."

Silence.

"Okay, maybe I panicked just a little."

"Just a little."

Joss squinted at her companion where he leaned back, managing to look completely relaxed while suspended in…nothing at all. "You're laughing at me."

"No…well, not exactly. Let's just say I'm enjoying your company."

There was a long pause.

Chichiri shot a concerned look at her. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. To be honest, you said something right. After the way I screwed up earlier—"

"You didn't 'screw up.'"

"Yes, I did, and don't try to bullshit me. After all, I was the one who was left with the view of the back of you as you ran out of the room."

Now he was studying his hands. "You're angry with me. You have every right to be."

"No, I'm not, and no, I don't. Hey, I'm telling the truth here," Joss tugged on Chichiri's arm, forcing him to meet her gaze, "when have you ever known me to lie?"

He gave a wry smile. "…never."

"You got that right. If I'm angry with anyone, it's with myself. I made some assumptions and pulled the wrong move, and now—_now_ I'm going to make it right. So I apologize, and—"

"You don't need to apologize."

Joss gestured sharply into the nothingness. "Yes, I _do._ Quit arguing with me! I want to get back to that thing you said before, about enjoying my company!" She took a breath. "You know, somehow that was supposed to come out with a lot less hostility."

"I believe you."

"You're laughing at me again."

"No…well, maybe a little."

"Well, good, because that's the way I'd like things to be between us. It's been a long time for me, twice as long for you, but…I miss the way we used to talk to each other. We could tell each other anything! And we laughed a lot, too, in spite of all the crap that was happening around us. I wish we could have that back again. Just that; I'm not asking for more, but still…" she trailed off uncertainly.

"I feel the same way."

"You do?"

"Yes. Honestly."

"So…you think we could be friends again?"

"I think we never stopped being friends."

Silence.

"Are you all right?"

"Mm-hm."

"Are you…crying?"

"…no. No, I'm fine." Pause. "I'm not one of those—!"

"Stupid eno crying little somethings, right?"

"It's e-_mo,_ not e-no, doof."

"Now you're laughing."

"Oh, God, I really _am_ emo! Strike me down now, Suzaku, before I humiliate myself any further!" Joss raised her arms in exaggerated supplication to the nothingness surrounding her.

"Since when have you started praying to Suzaku?"

"Since I started hanging out with the pro." Joss gave him a slightly watery grin. "Betcha didn't think you'd be such a good influence on me."

"No, but I always knew you were a good influence on me."

Beat.

"I really missed you, you know."

"And I you."

Joss felt tension hum between them, and smiled. It was the good kind of tension, the type that made you sit up in anticipation of whatever was coming next. No matter what happened between them, she would accept it, even if it was just friendship. She finally felt balanced, in control, certain of where she stood, ready for anything—

The Doctor's head popped up out of nowhere.

"Waah!" whooped Joss.

"Oh, sorry." The Doctor's left shoulder and arm appeared, as if he were leaning around a corner. "I didn't realize you two would still be so close to the door. It's a big room, you know." He smiled vaguely. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"No, of course not," Chichiri replied.

Joss did her best not to scowl. "What he said."

"Excellent." The Doctor still seemed distracted, and Joss noted that he looked paler than usual. "We've landed. It's time for us to go."

His head turned, and the top half of his body began to disappear again. Joss leapt forward and made a grab at the blank white space he had just exited, relieved to feel the hard edge of the door in her grip. "I've got the door, Houj…Chichiri!"

"Thank you, Joss." Chichiri's tone was completely noncommittal as he reached for the space above Joss' head and pulled, revealing the familiar roundels of the TARDIS corridor.

Joss stepped through the doorway, then turned to her companion. "You knew the door was right there all along."

"What makes you say that?" Chichiri turned an innocent eye upon her.

"The way it's taking everything you've got not to bust out laughing at me. You're better than you used to be at keeping a straight face, but you're still lousy at lying." She smirked up at him as they headed towards the console room. "I don't mind; go ahead and laugh. I never had a sense of dignity before, and I'm not about to cultivate one now. Listen, if you don't mind me changing the subject, did you see the Doctor's face? He looks like he's been through the wringer."

"If by 'through the wringer', you mean he's had a hard time—"

"Then you'd be absolutely right." The Doctor smiled wearily at them from where he leaned against the console room doorway. "Tricky business, this, getting past the transduction barriers of a planet that values secrecy above all. We owe our safe arrival here to the old girl, although it was close a few times. Thank goodness for you two agreeing to the Zero Room; otherwise they would've detected your life forces, and we would've been—"

"Captured?" Joss interrupted.

"No, vaporized is the closest Earth term, I believe." Ignoring Joss' surprised whistle, he led the way to the outer door of the TARDIS. "Are you wearing sensible shoes, Joss? Ah, yes, silly question, I realize."

"Yep, always got the gym shoes on. Or as you Brits say, trainers." She grinned at the Doctor's raised eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Gallifreyan, not British. Anyway, I am, as they say, ready for Plan B—and after what you just told us, I'm assuming Plan B is necessary."

"Not if we're quick enough. Hopefully our target won't require much persuasion."

"If he does, I've got a set of brass knuckles in my pocket," whispered Joss to Chichiri.

"Joss!"

"So how do you even know what brass knuckles are?"

"You're casting mental pictures again. The weapon looks much like a _tekko,_ and –"

"We won't need it," the Doctor interrupted. "Come along, you two, and stop bickering." The tone was admonishing, but a smile played around his lips.

****

Joss stepped outside the TARDIS and inhaled in surprise. The air was light, easy to breathe—yet strange. It tasted alien, if that made any sense. It reminded her of the time she went scuba diving and had to breathe compressed gases from a tank. That air had also tasted slightly different, a little too dry with a hint of chemical flavor, rasping along her lungs in an unfamiliar way.

This air had nothing chemical about it, but it was different in a way she couldn't put her finger on. It made her realize how Earth-normal the ShiJin was, since that alternate planet hadn't made her senses shiver uneasily, as Gallifrey was currently doing to her. Even the quality of light was different. It was sunset now, but the sky seemed a little too orange for even that time of day, the atmosphere a little too close, giving her the feeling of standing in a low-ceilinged room.

The Doctor and Chichiri were already striding off over the gently rolling hills, so she had to sprint over the slippery, squeaky bluegrass to catch up with them. By the time they reached the crest of the next rise, she was panting, making her realize that Gallifrey had somewhat less oxygen than she was accustomed to. No wonder the Doctor was stronger than he looked; running around Earth-normal planets must feel to him like being in a hyperbaric chamber.

Embarrassed at her shortness of breath, she decided to get a head start on the men by sprinting down the hill ahead of them. She rounded a curve in the path, going a little faster than she could control, and tried to stop short when she spied a figure in the grass ahead of her. Unfortunately, her feet tangled, and she half-tripped, half-skidded into the grass right in front of the Gallifreyan, ending up on her hands and knees.

Looking up into quizzical blue eyes, she gave a self-conscious grimace. "Um, hi. Er, greetings…or whatever. Sorry to drop in on you unannounced."

"Hello," he replied in a deep, soft voice as he rose to his feet, brushing grass from his homespun-type trousers. Throwing aside a cloak made of the same rough material, he extended a hand to her. "May I?"

She took his hand gratefully as she struggled to her feet. "Thanks." He had the type of grip she liked in a man: firm and strong but gentle enough not to crush her bones into powder. In fact, she liked the look of him altogether: long, dark hair streaked with gray, tied back in a ponytail; strong, handsome features dominated by a pair of penetrating blue eyes, sadness and wisdom lurking in their depths. Squeezing the hand that held hers, she smiled at him. "My name is Joss."

He bowed over her hand. "Joss," he murmured softly. "I hadn't remembered."

She frowned at his cryptic statement but was distracted by seeing movement in the corner of her eye. Turning slightly, she saw the Doctor and Chichiri barely ten paces away. "Here are my friends," she said cheerfully, grinning at their expressions upon seeing her hand in hand with a stranger. "This is the—"

"Doctor." Her new friend gave a slight bow in his direction. The Doctor wore the strange, catlike half-smile he displayed when he was reserving judgment. "And Suzaku Shichiseishi Chichiri, I believe. The years have seen your promise fulfilled; you look very well."

"And you. The years have also been kind to you." Chichiri smiled with unexpected warmth as he bowed politely in return. "I am glad to see you looking so well, Magus."

"What—wait! Magus?" Joss yanked her hand from the man's, leaping aside in horror. "This—this can't be Magus! He's too—"

"Sane?" The slight mockery in his tone was gentle, but it was enough to convince her: a distant echo of his strong sarcasm of the past.

"You look so different!" she said, coming straight to the point. "Did you regenerate?"

"Not in the way you mean: not holistically, so to speak. We Gallifreyans also regenerate on a smaller scale, rapid healing of scars and such. To maintain the appearance of when you last saw me, I had to inflict those wounds fresh each day. The Master Hermit has since taught me…not to do that."

Joss was amazed that Magus could speak serenely of those events from her not-so-distant past. She shuddered as she recalled the face behind the black mask: wild, bloodshot eyes; bloody, ragged furrows down each cheek, the marks of fingernails biting into flesh in an agony of self-loathing and self-mutilation. Realizing that he had performed that act every day…she couldn't help it: sympathetic tears rose in her eyes.

"Do not weep for me, young woman…Joss. Those events are far in my past."

She never would've believed his voice could be so gentle. She had a sudden vision of the man he had been—the man he could have been, had the Swarm not invaded his home and torn his life apart. Retreating behind the Doctor to hide her expression, she blinked rapidly to regain control of herself.

The Doctor finally stepped forward, his silent reserve strange in the face of his insistence on finding Magus. "So how is the Master Hermit these days?" he asked, his tone still cool and detached.

"Much the same—and yet probably very different from when you studied with him. He is sorry to have missed you this time."

The Doctor inclined his head. "When I saw you waiting here, I knew he didn't intend to see me. I also see that he'd anticipated my arrival."

"We both had." Magus shrugged under the Doctor's questioning gaze. "I am not an adept, at least not as far as I know. I merely felt the wind changing, so to speak. And so here you are—all of you." He looked at the three travelers before him. "Yet I doubt this is a social call. You haven't been together all this time; your personal timelines are too diverse. So I can only surmise that you've been brought together again by circumstance, a circumstance that requires my presence." His expression darkened. "I believe it's time for me to serve the sentence you imposed upon me, Doctor—to fulfill my destiny, isn't that what you said?"

"Perhaps." The Doctor's expression softened. "We are not a press gang, Magus. If you have at last found peace…if you've found a way to live with your past, I have no desire to take that from you. You can impart your knowledge to us without having to face _them_ again."

"What kind of peace would it be," Magus asked softly, lifting his eyes to address the sunset instead of people before him, "knowing I'd brought my personal hell onto innocent planets, and left their people to deal with the consequences on their own? Perhaps I've learned to sublimate my rage into less destructive channels, but it doesn't mean the rage has ceased to exist." He sent a penetrating stare at the Doctor. "Be honest, Doctor. You're hoping very hard that my rage is still alive; otherwise, you have risked the transduction barriers for nothing."

The Doctor remained silent but met the stare with his own.

"Very well. You can see I'm ready to go; I've brought everything I own with me." He lifted his arms, mockingly revealing his shabby clothing.

"You already know that everything you own is waiting for us at our destination." The Doctor nodded at the flash of fire in Magus' eyes. "After you, Magus." He bowed politely, then followed Magus as he climbed back the way they had come. Chichiri and Joss followed silently in the time lords' wake.

****

Joss leaned over the control room console, squinting at the grainy image on the small, archaic-looking monitor. "Come on, girl, I'm not asking you to spy on him in his underwear! I just want to make sure—okay, yeah. Still meditating then. Damn, how long can a man spend in a meditative state?"

"It depends on his level of enlightenment."

Joss jumped, realizing she was no longer alone in the control room. Fumbling with the monitor controls, she tried to shut off the incriminating images, all the while knowing it was too late. Finally the TARDIS shut down her own screen, giving an oddly human-sounding electronic sigh.

Turning around, Joss smiled innocently at her companion. "Hey, Chichiri. What's new?"

"Spying on our colleagues, apparently." He raised an eyebrow at her defiant blush. "I don't understand, Joss; I thought you liked him. I believe I even saw you crying for him."

Her chin jutted stubbornly in a way that irresistibly reminded him of Tasuki in his younger days. "Yeah, I'm not going to lie: I cried for him. I cry for a lot of things—you should've seen me at the end of the movie 'Lilo and Stitch'. But my tear ducts aren't directly connected to the Off switch in my brain. Until I know that he can be trusted, me and my buddy here," she patted the TARDIS console, "are going to keep a close eye on him."

"Don't you think the Doctor might have something to say about how you use the TARDIS?"

"Apparently not." The Doctor strolled into the control room, seemingly unperturbed by Joss' commandeering of his loyal vessel. "The TARDIS has always had a mind of her own; she'll do as she thinks best. Although I'm not certain she is completely convinced of Joss' cause." He fussed with arranging place settings on the tea table. "A word of advice, Joss: when you decide to spy on a guest's room again, make sure you specify to the TARDIS that you want the camera and sound pickup to go only one way."

"What? Oh, damn," moaned Joss as Magus entered the room. He had exchanged his peasantlike clothes for a simple but elegant grey suit with a long coat that reminded her of the sherwani suits worn by East Indian men.

"Miss Josselin," he said in a friendly tone, "it's good to see you again so soon. I'd be happy to instruct you in my ways of meditation, since you seem fascinated by the technique."

"Ha, ha, ha," said Joss gloomily. "All the guys, get together and laugh at the girl now."

"I'm not laughing," said the Doctor, gesturing them to join him at the tea table. "I may not agree with your techniques, Joss, but I can't fault the sentiment behind them."

Magus smiled to himself as he picked up a delicate teacup. "An interesting opening salvo, Doctor. You may have sought my help, but you waste no time in letting me know that you don't trust me."

"There is no time to waste," the Doctor replied tersely, his usual humor gone as he poured tea for all of them. "The Swarm is being unusually cautious as they make small forays into the ShiJin and Earth—but once they make their final move, it will be such a decisive blow that there will be no possibility of defending either planet. We have to somehow get ahead of them, and we can only do so if we have your whole-hearted cooperation, Magus. If you have any thoughts of double-crossing us, I need to know before I place the fates of two planets in your hands."

"Why would I double-cross you? What could be my possible motivation? Do you think me bent on revenge for the events in the ShiJin all those years ago?"

"No, I believe that you've learned how empty and petty revenge can be. But there is a treasure waiting for you on the ShiJin, one you could not possibly retrieve without my help. No one on Gallifrey knew you were there, aside from one trustworthy hermit; no one on Gallifrey even knows you are still alive—but if they did, they would immediately execute you. You needed me to come back for you and transport you to the ShiJin, and for that, you might be willing to play any role, pretend any change of heart that would free you from your imprisonment."

Magus sat back against the cushions, inhaling the fragrant tea before taking an experimental sip. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste, as Joss and Chichiri regarded him with worried eyes. The Doctor, however, merely watched him with cautious, catlike attention. "I'm glad," Magus said suddenly. "I'm glad to find the intervening years haven't rendered you a fool, Doctor. What is that old Earth saying: 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer'? It's a wise piece of advice, not applicable to the Swarm, unfortunately: keeping them close would only result in them biting off your head."

"But you do keep them close, Magus. You think them, breathe them, try to see the universe through their flat, black eyes; at least you had, up until we encountered one another in the ShiJin. This is the reason I've taken the risk of bringing you into this delicate situation."

"And now that the risk has been taken, what is the next step? Do you want verbal reassurance from me as to my trustworthiness? If I were a liar, I would merely lie to you. It seems that you have entered us into a game, a game of chance in which we cannot tell the next move until one of us shows his hand."

"True enough." The Doctor sat back, undisturbed by Magus' refusal to give him a straight answer. "So to begin, I'll show part of my hand first. You won't get your TARDIS back—not right away. If I've been fool enough to cut my own throat by trusting you, at least I can prepare our few allies to defend themselves as best they can. First we travel to each planet, making contact with our friends and finding ways for them to communicate with one another without the Swarm's knowledge. We'll organize a strategy with government leaders, make contingency plans, and communicate what little we know before we even think about taking on the Swarm directly. After that, we can concentrate on battle plans—battle plans that include your TARDIS."

"I disagree." The voice was soft and gentle, and Joss and the Doctor stared in shock at the source. Chichiri stared into his teacup, the concentric circles on the surface betraying his trembling hand. He carefully replaced the bone china cup on the table, keeping his eyes fixed on the tea things. "I haven't said anything before now, Doctor; I've been patient with your plans, delaying my…delaying while we've gathered the core team, as you called it. But I can't wait any longer." He lifted his eyes, meeting the Doctor's questioning gaze with a haunted expression. "I've never had the chance to talk much about my time on the Swarm mothership—"

"He's been on the Swarm mothership?" burst out Magus, shocked. The Doctor impatiently waved him to silence.

"Yes, I've been there, on the surface of it, at least. It was not…a good experience, and I never had the chance to get inside. All the same, the entire time I was stranded there—until the Doctor rescued me—I kept getting this feeling." He shook his head. "Something in the ship was calling to me, something was pulling me to come inside, and it kept scratching at my consciousness like an unbearable itch."

"It's said," said Magus, interrupting gently this time, "it's said the Swarm powers their colony by harnessing the souls—the _ki_—of those they destroy. It's said the need for this power is what drives the Swarm to rape and harvest planet after planet. Of course, there's never been any independent confirmation of this observation and, considering that it came from a surgically melded being that had been driven half-insane by the procedure, we have no way of knowing if it's true. But if it _is _true, that's what you might have sensed: billions of souls enslaved and in agony."

Chichiri shook his head, his eye clouded and distant. "I can't explain it, but it seemed more personal than that. It seemed to be calling to me in particular."

"Houjun," the Doctor said gently, "there is no more dangerous place in the universe for you than on that mothership. Believe me, the beasts have picked up and recorded your ki signal, and they'll be especially hungry to harvest you and find out what you know."

"Nevertheless, Doctor, you have to take me back there. More than that, you have to get me inside the ship."

****

**Asteroid Belt, Twenty Degrees Galaxial North of the ShiJinTenChiSho**

Darkness. It was the one constant in this existence. He wasn't even certain how he knew there was another type of existence, one that didn't involve long stretches of darkness interspersed with painful bursts of blinding light...but he knew. It was just one of those things he accepted knowing, the same way he accepted knowing that he was in hiding.

He was hiding in the darkness, so deeply buried that he had lost himself. He was hiding without knowing exactly what he was hiding from, nor the urgency and fear of getting caught; he just accepted that getting caught meant the end of this existence. As miserable as this existence was, some strong survival instinct drove him to cling to it, to imagine that things…things had not always been like this, and so might not always continue to be like this (_hope? Was this hope?)._

He reached out his hand, dully feeling around the all-encompassing darkness. There were six walls surrounding him: six walls and a floor. Walls. Floor. He let the concepts roll around in his mind. There was a small hatch in the ceiling that opened once an interval to deposit food _(nutrients…a tasteless, watery substance to place in his mouth and choke down_). There was a small chute in the floor that opened three times in the same interval to discard the wastes of his body (_why did he care about discarding the waste? He didn't know; he just accepted that he cared). _ Those openings in the ceiling and floor closed seamlessly after their use. He couldn't open them on his own. He couldn't get out (_to where?)_ through those openings. He couldn't escape.

He was in hiding, but his body couldn't hide. It was subjected to whatever his captors chose to do to it at various intervals. He wasn't quite sure what they did; he made certain his mind was safely tucked away while they did it. He knew it involved sharp things at times, sharp things that caused pain to his body. Sometimes it involved bright lights and shrieking noises. He tried not to dwell on it--he preferred to think about his dreams.

The dreams were becoming more vivid lately, and although his strange inner knowledge warned him that this was a dangerous thing, he couldn't help grasping at the fleeting images. They made him feel something that was very different from pain (_pleasure?)._

His favorite dream involved green eyes. Green eyes looking at him so softly, so tenderly; he could almost feel their gaze as a physical caress. Green eyes that were not like those others—no, he didn't want to think about those other eyes. Luckily, his times of being dragged out to undergo (_torture?)_ were growing further apart, leaving him more time in the darkness. He wasn't certain how much time passed, but he knew it passed all the same--and with that passage of time, there was a growing feeling (_need? want?)_ making him dimly aware that he was seeking something. It had to do with the green eyes, with what they were looking at. The knowledge came as it always did: absent one moment, in his mind the next.

The eyes were looking at his true self, the one he had lost when he hid it away.

Suddenly he wanted it back. He wanted himself, and he wanted those green eyes, and he wanted both with a fierceness that took his breath away. He closed his own eyes (_stupid of him, since he was blind in the darkness anyway)_; he closed his eyes and reached with his mind, stretching, yearning, pulling the fragmented parts of himself from hiding so that he could join them together.

"I am…" he gasped, his voice rusty and cracking from disuse. "I am…" he tried again, but it wasn't working. He cried a few tears of frustration, feeling salt sting the back of his throat. Throat. Stinging, dry. Carefully, he wetted his lips with his tongue, swallowing his tears. Then he tried once more.

"My name…" and the stronger sound of those (_words?)_ pleased him. Excitement built in his breast, and he took a deep breath, pulling together everything he'd hidden and fragmented in his quest to survive.

It was time to stop hiding and start living again.

"My name," he said, letting the words bounce triumphantly off the walls that surrounded him,

"…is Tamahome."

****

****

**Credits and translations**

"a special hell" : This phrase used by Joss was originally written by Joss...Whedon, that is, for his television series "Firefly."

'_La plus ça change' _: The first half of a French saying that goes, _"La plus ça change, la plus c'est la meme chose," _which translates as "The more things change, the more they remain the same."

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." : saying attributed to the ancient Chinese general Sun-Tzu

****

**Author's Note: (1-9-08)** Thank you for reading this story—and for those of you who have waited for me to update Hidden Paths for such a long time: my eternal gratitude for your patience and loyalty to this storyline.

I have so much to say, and believe me, I intend to subject you to one of my infamously long author's ramblings (fifteen months worth? –_winces_-), but for now, I'm trying to beat a personal deadline in getting this chapter posted on this site. So I promise that I will edit in my ramblings sometime during Thursday, for those of you who are interested.

For those of you who are not interested, today's your lucky day! A short note for once!

:P

I'll be back soon!

Roku


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